


Midnights

by fromneptune



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Attempt at Humor, Florists, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Kuroo Tetsurou is a Dork, M/M, Roommates, Slow Build, these two are so stubborn i swear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-18
Updated: 2016-03-17
Packaged: 2018-05-14 16:43:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 38,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5750575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fromneptune/pseuds/fromneptune
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Tsukishima becomes Kuroo's new roommate, and unknowingly becomes the moon to Kuroo's night.</p><p>The next instance of their game occurred when Tsukishima was asleep. He woke up and saw himself with a woman's makeup on. "KUROO!" he bellowed.<br/>"Hm? Oh, wow. So who's the lucky guy?"<br/>"The <em>dead<em></em></em> guy is about to be you."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> Oh God. Here I go. I didn't even ship this until my friend got me into it.  
> Still, enjoy!

He could bear living with his older brother, Akiteru. He could bear his college roommate, Yamaguchi. He was not sure at all if he had the patience to handle living with Kuroo Tetsurou. He’d only seen a picture Bokuto had showed him, but he already got a good idea of his nature. Tsukishima figured he was the type of guy to prefer cats over dogs and nighttime over dawn. He was probably noisy and nonsensical, and slept like a log. He could have some weird hidden talents, too. Like picking things up with his toes or having delicate and neat handwriting. By the look of his build, his arms and legs, he was strong. The smirk on his face was suggestive and quite annoying; Tsukishima wondered if it was his neutral expression. He also found Kuroo’s hair strange and unruly. He had black hair, cut sharply and unevenly. Parts of it curved upwards, with a side bang covering his right eye. His eyes, though half-lidded (the explanation for seeming mischievous), were dark and full of character.

That was his first assessment of Kuroo, just by looking at the picture. He wasn’t the only one in the picture either; there was Bokuto and a shorter, placid boy with bleached hair and a handheld gaming system in his hands. He wondered about the boy.

This was normal for Tsukishima. He would observe people and wonder about them based on their looks, surroundings and actions. He was never the type to shout or talk at all, but he always said something if it mattered or if it was a sarcastic joke. He was honest, even though most of the time brutally so. He didn’t easily show emotion, though one could see his frustration and pleasure at times. The only person aside from his family who noticed these aspects of him was Yamaguchi, whom he rarely called by his first name, Tadashi. They’d been friends since high school and met when Yamaguchi was trying to help the upperclassmen recruit more people for their school’s book club. It went something like this:

“Hi, um, you like reading, don’t you?” he fumbled.

Tsukishima glared at him. “Why do you think I like to read? My glasses?”

“No, um, I see you read on the rooftop every lunch break.”

After more pushing and coercing, he had successfully recruited him. Soon enough, instead of declaring their friendship, the two were just around each other so much that people considered Yamaguchi his other half and vice versa. Somehow, someway, Yamaguchi had cracked Tsukishima’s outer defense wall just a bit. Even if he wouldn’t admit it (because he really wouldn’t), he appreciated the green-haired, freckled boy’s company.

The very thing that brought them together, the book club, became his place of peace. The club room was a comfortable size and had three tall bookshelves. He sat next to the window at the far end of the long wooden table in the middle of the room. The rest of the members sat at the other end so as to not disturb him, because one of the conditions Yamaguchi offered him if he were to join was that he would not have to participate in group discussions. He could tell he was definitely not the sociable type. Overall, the window view was beautiful, and no one disturbed him while he read.

Another thing he wouldn’t admit: his intelligence. He was no Einstein, mind you, but he earned excellent scores on his exams. In college it was more difficult to get an “A” in every subject, but he managed to hold his own.

He and Yamaguchi ended up going to the same college (a plan of the latter). It was some unfathomable fate that led them to the same dorm room. Yamaguchi originally had a room to himself, but Tsukishima had been assigned to an already full room. Being roommates was his wake-up-call to how much he didn’t like people. Yamaguchi was unexpectedly sloppy, and failed to wake up at the time he set on his alarm. He was the king of all heavy sleepers.

They’d went to their first college party together, where Tsukishima (Yamaguchi was attempting to flirt with girls) met the host, Bokuto. His first impression of him was when he was drunk, so Bokuto has always regretted how they first met. He had dark hair with silver throughout and golden eyes, his appearance reflecting that of an owl. He had a large mouth, one for talking profusely. He wasn’t as difficult to be around as Tsukishima had initially thought. He was friendly, and made good conversation for the time being as he repressed his drunkenness. This proved to be difficult later on when they began spin the bottle. An iconic, ridiculous party game in which Tsukishima reluctantly kissed a guy for the first time. He wasn’t as disturbed as he thought he’d be, and the entire situation was strange, but he went with it. He knew you could only do these stupid things only a few times in your life.

After this, according to Bokuto, he and Tsukishima hit it off.  He tutored him, they went off-campus together, and Tsukishima listened to the old owl’s complaints about his friendships or relationships. This was pretty much their relationship even after college, more or less.

The apartment came into discussion when, over coffee, Tsukishima mentioned that he was still currently at Yamaguchi's house and he did not feel like continuing the arduous task of being Yamaguchi’s roommate. Bokuto had followed with explaining that his “best friend since forever,” Kuroo, had an empty room. His old roommate had left for a business offer in America. Bokuto then showed him a picture of Kuroo, and Tsukishima tried to picture living with him. However it was no use. It was one of those things that you could only see when it actually happened. Like a comet, or an eclipse. At least to him, you cannot picture something you cannot comprehend.

“So. We can talk about the finances and business-y stuff later. Right now I want to know something. Kuroo is not the best person. He especially isn’t the best person to live with for long periods of time,” said Bokuto.

“It’s only until I find something else.”

“Still. You’re going to live with him for the time being. I want to make sure . . . that you know what you’re doing. As your friend and his, I don’t want you to step into this if you’re not sure.” Bokuto definitely had his moments.

Tsukishima gulped down the rest of his black coffee. “I’m sure,” he said, “Don’t worry too much.”

“Alright, then. It’s settled.”

***

Currently he stood at the front door. The apartment number, 111, was a dubious number. He sighed and rang the doorbell. He flinched at the sound, as it sounded like the meowing of a cat. This guy was weird. For sure.

The door opened up and now facing him was none other than Kuroo Tetsurou. He seemed somewhat different in real life from what he saw in the photograph. His hair was longer, his eyes fatigued, and his skin slightly darker. He was clearly growing a beard and moustache, though it may have been the result of laziness to shave. His back, hunched over like an old man, bothered Tsukishima. He’d seen his grandfather with back problems, and they weren’t nice to him.

“You are?” he asked, his voice low and grumpy.

“Tsukishima Kei. Your new roommate.”

“Ah? Koutarou sent me a _megane-kun_?”

“Yes,” he muttered, “he sent you a _megane-kun_.”

“Anyway, come in. I was just making breakfast.” He motioned for him to come in.

Tsukishima walked inside with his two suitcases and duffel bag. He thought, _Breakfast? It’s two o’clock._ But then he thought otherwise, because he already figured the guy had to be this weird. Incidentally, he liked the place. The burgundy walls matched the dark wood floor. Overall it was brighter than he expected, with the kitchen in the corner being the brightest area. The hallway at the right expanded down and ended after the third door. Two rooms and a bathroom. In front was the living area, with a worn out black sofa and a brown recliner. A tall bookshelf stood behind it, next to the windows. A round, wide wooden table was in the middle of the area, in front of the television. Tsukishima figured it must have been his alternative of a dining table with chairs.

“The sofa is mine, and the recliner is yours,” he stated.

“Okay.” He left his bags at the mouth of the hallway and sat in the recliner, watching Kuroo place the food in the table one by one. He turned on the television to a reality show. He didn’t watch TV often, because nothing interested him. He liked his PC games and books.

On the table was _miso_ soup, rice, grilled tuna, more rice, buttered toast, and more grilled tuna. As Kuroo sat with his legs crossed by the table, Tsukishima got down from the recliner and did the same. “ _Itadakimasu_ ,” they said.

Tsukishima was surprised by how delicious the food tasted. Of course, he didn’t show his surprise, but Kuroo caught on by the pace at which he chewed. “Is it that good?”

He was uncomfortable with giving outright praise, but he showed respect for people who could cook well. He only shrugged in response. As he’d suspected, his roommate had some unexpected talents.

Kuroo eyed him knowingly. “You’re a quiet type, huh?”

“Is that a problem?”

“No. My last roommate was quiet too.”

“Oh.” The way both Bokuto and Kuroo talked about this mysterious roommate person couldn’t be any more secretive. They literally clothed the person in mystery, as if the person’s existence left a bad mark on their bodies.

“Yeah. But it seems like you’ll be more fun to mess with,” he chuckled.

Tsukishima did not like the way that sounded. But he let it slide, since he was in the midst of eating. He didn’t like to be bothered with being worried or whatever while doing something he liked. “Awesome,” he replied sarcastically.

“Okay, so, first order of business. Sleep times, shower times, work.” Kuroo took more rice out of the cooker and devoured it at an inhuman speed.

“Um, I like to go to bed at eleven the latest. I take showers at night. And I’m a florist.”

He stopped eating and raised his eyebrows. “Hmm. It seems we have the same preferences. But a florist? Really?”

Tsukishima frowned. “And? What about it . . .?”

“No, no. You just don’t strike me as the type of guy to be interested in flowers. When I heard about you from Koutarou, I pictured you as a librarian or an actor or something.”

He almost laughed. Those were two entirely different careers. “Well, I’m neither. More people buy flowers than you’d think.”

He meant to continue and ask what his work was, but he started talking about living arrangements again. “Okay, then. I’ll cook breakfast and you’ll cook dinner. Sometimes I’ll feel like ordering pizza or noodles. Cool?”

“I guess.”

“Now, the chores. You can take out the trash whenever you feel like it. I’m in charge of recycling my _Jump_ magazines. I don’t like cleaning, but I’ll do whatever you tell me to. Only during the weekends. I have better things to do during the week.”

“Sounds fine to me.” Tsukishima was not taken aback by his leniency and his basic disregard for anything, really. This stuff he figured as soon as he walked in.

“Good. However, don’t go in my room. Or look into it. Ever. _Especially_ if I’m there.” Kuroo’s tone turned dark enough to stop Tsukishima from eating. It was a strange, reversed preference. “And don’t interfere with the way I live my life. Got it?”

“Okay.” He couldn’t quite get any other words out from his mouth. Suspicion probably clouded his mind as much as curiosity did. It was like how someone tells you not to look at something, and that just makes you want to look at it. But then you do, and you regret it forever. He sat, silent, secretly wanting to go back up on the recliner. Now _his_ recliner. He watched Kuroo’s hands move as he picked up the food to eat. He wondered about what he, not his hands, has been through. Of course, a guy like this had to have a secret. A guy like this had to be distant and a bit abrasive. He should have known. But now he wanted to know just why he couldn’t see his room. Just what in the world could be the reason for his personality?

“Ah, _megane-kun_ , can you pass the soy sauce?”


	2. Demon Lords

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A leather jacket, flowers, an amber color, and fog.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Voila! The second chapter, my friends!

After a week of living together, they’d learned about some of each other’s fixations, tendencies and preferences. Tsukishima had been pretty much correct about his predictions. Kuroo’s special skills included nice handwriting and picking up things with his toes, but there was also his habit of taking small bites of his food at a time, something Tsukishima figured out by observation. The only things he loved were cats and tuna fish. He loathed milk.

Now, aside from his consuming curiosity, Tsukishima wanted to know all of these things in case he needed to blackmail him for some reason that could arrive in the future. He actually had characteristics more specific than Kuroo’s. He had a knack for making sandwiches, always without the crust, he was a black-belt in karate, and had a small obsession with tea. He made it clear to Kuroo that there would be lots of tea bags in the apartment soon. He was glad to know that the seemingly emotionless glasses-boy could be passionate about something. Tsukishima knew that he himself was not emotionless at all, there just weren’t many things he could show emotion for.

Since it came up in conversation, Kuroo had talked briefly about what he did for a living. He was a journalist for a newspaper company called _The News._ He couldn’t imagine himself doing any other job. He’d discovered the most ironic, hilarious, and heartbreaking stories. Most of the time he would have clients who’d want him to investigate a story. Not many were dangerous, and he’d never gotten into a conflict with the _yakuza,_ although he wanted to.

“We often have really crappy parties,” he said, “But they’re fun.”

***

“Horror movies?” Tsukishima repeated, not quite sure how they’d gotten on the topic. It was a Friday morning, and the breeze slowly begun to feel colder. Tsukishima wore a green hoodie to fight the cold. While it hadn’t arrived yet, he didn’t like winter, not one bit. He didn’t like the way his nose and ears turned pink and his fingers hardened. He didn’t like the way he could see his breath in the dry air. If anything, he liked the snow.

“Yeah. I hate them,” Kuroo murmured. He tended to talk a lot quieter in the morning than in the evening.

“You do?”

“They’re not scary. They’re just stupid.”

“I guess so.”

After eating, Tsukishima immediately got ready to leave for work. As he tied his sneakers, about to leave, Kuroo stopped him. “Oi, Tsukki!” So much for talking quietly. Where did “Tsukki” come from, anyway? That’s what Yamaguchi and Bokuto called him.

“What?” he grumbled.

“You’re not going out in just that hoodie, are you?” he interrogated.

“Yeah . . .?”

“No. It’s cold. Do you _want_ to get sick?”

“Why do you care?” he snapped. He didn’t like being told what to do by someone who was probably more reckless than him.

“I don’t want you to get sick. _I_ don’t want to get sick.” Kuroo walked over to him with a black scarf and a jacket, and wrapped it around his neck. He gave him the jacket and patted his shoulders. “Put that on and you’ll feel better.”

 _I feel fine already,_ he thought, _but whatever._ He put the leather jacket on and left. Leather jackets weren’t his style, but he complied to please his roommate.

Ukai Flowers wasn’t a place so conspicuous that its business would be questioned and then promptly shut down. However it also didn’t look like _just_ a flower shop. Its exterior walls were rundown and the sign that read “Ukai Flowers” was off one hinge. The bright and colorful inside was its most redeeming factor. Tsukishima grew even more suspicious when he first met the owner, Ukai himself. His appearance gave him the impression that he could have been an ex-convict. But he was a pretty normal boss, and surprisingly made good business.

Yachi Hitoka, a bright blonde woman, also worked there. One time, when she’d asked Ukai if they could sell some snacks or candies as well, he replied in a hostile fury: “No. We sell flowers, not junk.”

“No offense sir, but I think cigarettes are also ‘junk’,” Tsukishima debated.

“Oi, Tsukishima! Do you wanna get fired?” he roared.

Although most of their shenanigans were like this, the three of them were something akin to family, if not already (even if Tsukishima may have not been too fond of the idea).

That Friday morning, after he arrived and manned his post, a certain customer walked through the glass doors and let some cold air inside. He was a short, amber-haired man, with a yellow hoodie and grey sweats. He seemed to have a bounce in his step; as he walked his sneakers made sounds on the floor. He looked around, unsure, then stared at Tsukishima. Although eye contact was one of his weaknesses, he fought to the death with this stranger. The stranger broke the ice when he started laughing. “You’re a weird guy.”

“I get that a lot. Anyway, do you want to buy anything? This is a _store._ ”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah. Can you wrap up five white tulips? They’re my sister’s favorite.”

Tsukishima picked out and wrapped the flowers. Ukai always said that flower wrapping was an art. He could say it was difficult, but he wasn’t so sure about it being “art.”

“Thank you!” the man said, looking at the name tag on his apron. “Tsukishima?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m Hinata. I’ll come by again!” The young man named Hinata waved goodbye as Tsukishima nodded. It was tricky being so nice, but the guy hadn’t done anything wrong. Even so, he was not looking forward to the next time he and the short orange guy would meet again.

 

It was around six when he came home. Kuroo was already home, and had been home all day. There were in fact times where he wouldn’t get a story. He lay on his sofa, twirling his fingers. He shot up and walked over to the food he was cooking on the stove top. “Hey,” he finally said, “You hungry?”

“I thought I was supposed to cook dinner,” Tsukishima replied, searching the fridge for a bottle of cold tea. He grabbed the unsweetened one and sat on the recliner.

“Who cares about the details? I just felt like cooking. Do you want some or no?”

“Sure.”

As Kuroo plated the food, he cleared his throat as if prepping himself for his next words. “There’s also something I have to tell you.”

“Tell me?”

“Yeah. If we’re going to do this roommate thing, we’re going to be involved in each other’s lives whether we like it or not. So, before this continues, there’s something you have the right to know.” He sat and watched the food steam.

Tsukishima cocked his head and asked, “Are you hiding a dead body in your room or something? You were being pretty secretive when we first met.”

Kuroo, who had been drinking, almost sprayed out the water from his mouth. “God, no. What the hell goes on in that brain of yours?”

“Well, if it’s not that, I doubt it’s nothing you can’t say.”

“Good point. Okay, so. Well, I’m gay.”

It was Tsukishima’s turn to nearly spit out his tea. He restrained himself from showing much else of a shock, but it was a huge shock. “Wait, isn’t Bokuto . . .?”

Kuroo nodded, “Kind of, yeah. Me, I realized it in college. Is it . . . going to be a problem?”

“No, no. I don’t really care. After all, you told me not to interfere with the with the way you live.”

A small smile formed on his face, but Tsukishima blinked and it disappeared. Either it vanished as soon as it came, or it was never really there. He had a strong feeling that it was there.

The rest of dinner was silent. The warm water froze quickly into ice, and it wasn’t until they’d both finished eating that the ice cracked. They’d stood up at the same time, facing each other. Kuroo said, “Ohoho? Are we the same height?” Tsukishima, uninterested, shrugged. He pulled him closer until they were close enough to be _close_. He was a few centimeters shorter.

Being taller than Kuroo was most definitely not the object of Tsukishima’s focus. As Kuroo had pulled him closer, a persistent urge to get as far away as possible haunted him. He felt bothered, bothered by the closeness and bothered by how shaky and hot he was feeling. The entire moment, which felt like an hour, threw him off for the rest of the night.

 

Since he woke up first, Tsukishima made breakfast the next morning. He sat, waiting for Kuroo to arrive. He spent the time reading. His head was low and covered by the book, so he didn’t notice when he showed up and started eating. After a few minutes of this, Kuroo got annoyed so he decided to be the nuisance instead. “Tsukki. Hey, Tsukki. Good morning, Tsukki.”

Tsukishima caught on quick, so he didn’t budge. He continued to read as if his childish roommate wasn’t there. Yet he continued, and even changed the nickname. “ _Megane-kun_. Hey, _megane-kun_. Why are you so mean, _megane-kun_?" he nagged. Reaching his limit, he slammed his book on the floor and faced Kuroo. Their eyes met very roughly. “Ah,” Kuroo said. “That’s better.”

Later that day, Tsukishima met with Bokuto over coffee. It was a bit crowded that day; not many seats were free. The two of them liked going there to meet because it was a serene, peaceful place. Bokuto immediately got into conversation. “I have a date,” he explained, “so I have to make this quick.”

“Is this about Kuroo? He already told me that he’s gay.”

“About that, he told me to tell you more about it because he didn’t want to go through the trouble of explaining it.” He sipped his coffee and grumbled, “His lazy ass.”

Tsukishima was alarmed to realize that he found this funny and very much like Kuroo. “So what is it?”

Bokuto held up the photo Tsukishima had first seen Kuroo in and pointed at the boy with the bleached hair. “This guy was his roommate before you. Kozume Kenma.”

“The guy who left for America? You were friends?”

“We were, yeah. For a long time. I mean, I still keep in touch with him but Kuroo was pretty broken about it. It's one of the reasons why he's so jaded.”

“Broken? About the fact that he left?”

“Yeah. He moved because he got a job offer for game development. Of course, he didn’t want to leave Kuroo behind, so he hid it from the both of us until his last week. So that he wouldn’t be tempted to stay.”

For some reason, this angered Tsukishima, and since he didn’t know why he was angry or what to do with it, he just sat there, his flames silently growing. He asked, “Did Kuroo love him or something?”

“They were in a relationship. A serious one.” Bokuto didn’t continue, for he could tell that something was irritating Tsukishima. He waved his hand in front of his friend's frowning face. “Tsukki. Are you okay? Was it something I said?”

 _It was something you said,_ he thought, _but I don’t know why._ “So why are you telling me this, again?”

“Kuroo wanted you to know. In case something happened, I guess. I’m just a messenger.” After finishing his coffee, Bokuto got ready to run out. He stretched his arms and legs. The ladies around him marveled at his physique. “Well, see ya, Tsukki. Gotta go meet Keiji!” The next second, he was gone. Tsukishima sighed. He didn’t like this. He didn’t like the way this turned out. But he had figured out why he was so irritated. It wasn’t his business, nor was it in his place to do so, but he couldn’t forgive what Kenma had done. The keeping it a secret, the leaving anyway, everything. He could understand it, but he also understood being hurt by those closest to you. He had experienced it himself, which is why he closed himself off in the first place. He couldn’t trust relationships or love either. It was all a vague, empty fog.

And he hated fog.

 

When he went back inside his building, he ran into the landlord, Sugawara. He was the only one who really called him by his full last name; others just used “Suga.” The landlord was a man of average height and average looks, though he had strange silver hair and a mole under his eye. “Oh, Tsukishima. Good to see you,” he greeted with a smile.

“Sugawara-san.”

“How’s the Demon Lord working out for you? I know him. He might be a bit of trouble.”

“Kuroo? He’s fine.”

“I’m glad. Well, see you around.”

Tsukishima came home to see a game of chess being set up by Kuroo. The chess board and the pieces were clean and brand new. He must have just bought them. “Hey,” he said, “how did you know I like chess?”

Kuroo grinned. “I asked Koutarou if you played any games, and he told me.”

“Heh. Is he our mediator or something? I just met with him because you told him to talk to me.”

He stopped. “Oh. So you heard?”

“I did. But I don’t see the need to talk about it. Let’s play.” Tsukishima sat in front of him and neither of them made any moves. Kuroo had the white pieces and Tsukishima the black. “Kuroo. Do you even know how to play?” he asked, fully knowing the answer.

He shrugged. “Guess that means you’re gonna teach me?”

As he taught him and showed him the moves, Tsukishima could not understand why he felt such ease. Sure, Kuroo was still annoying and hid all of his stories in the black abyss of his heart, he was letting him see more. What he could see was not bad. He thought,  _What D_ _emon Lord? I don’t see one._


	3. 00:00

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A party, a phone call, a night, and stuff about parents.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is fairly shorter than the usual, so I'm gracing you guys with two chapters.

This time, Hinata came with a brown jacket and sweats with a few holes. His hair, tousled and his shirt untucked from his pants. Where in the world did he come from? What in the world was his job? No, Tsukishima didn’t want to know. Things were better off the way they were. “White tulips again, please,” Hinata said.

He had to know if this was going to be a recurring thing. “Are you going to buy her flowers every week?”

“It’s what she wants, so . . .” He seemed downcast.

“So that’s good. Make her happy.”

Laughing subtly, he declared, “You know what, Tsukishima? You’re a better guy than what you let other people see. You should let them see more.”

With that, their second encounter ended.

 

That evening, he came home to anarchy. Hell breaking free from its own chains. He grimaced as he saw the scene, and worried about the events for the next few hours. Kuroo and Bokuto were laughing madly on the floor, with five cases of beer cans by their side. Clearly, one case was half-way finished. Balloons that haven’t been blown up yet were scattered around the room. Party streamers coiled around the television to the bookshelf. They were a drunken mess. “Hey, look! It’s Tsukki!” Bokuto exclaimed. “Come and join us!”

“No, thanks. I’m pretty tired,” he replied, walking past them and to his room. In doing so, he noticed that Kuroo’s room was opened just a few centimeters. As a matter of fact, his room was always opened by just that much. After standing and staring at the door for a minute, he resisted the temptation. Soon after locking himself away from their chaos, his stomach grumbled and he went to the kitchen.

“So he wants to join us after all,” Kuroo hiccupped. He wasn’t so drunk, but drunk enough to want to make Tsukishima hurl.

“No, I don’t,” he clarified, “I’m just hungry.”

“Hungry, huh? You know what, Koutarou? We should make this a party, and invite some of the guys, like Akaashi, Suga, and Ushiwaka.”

“Good idea! See, this is why we’re bros, Kuroo! I’m on it right now.”

As soon as Tsukishima sighed, Kuroo turned to him and said, “You’re going to join us, right? You don’t have to cook. I’ll order takeout.” He sighed again and submitted. Kuroo immediately handed him a can and even opened it for him. He had the weirdest feeling that he was just curious to see what he was like when drunk. However Tsukishima knew Kuroo wouldn’t get to see anything from him; he was a dangerous man who could hold his alcohol.

An hour later, the party really begun. The food came, and Akaashi arrived first. It had been a few years since the last time Tsukishima saw Akaashi Keiji. As Bokuto’s boyfriend, they’d intersected paths many times. Every time he saw the two of them together, he thought of a mother and son somehow, Akaashi being the one to always put Bokuto in check.

“Keiji, you came!” Akaashi was probably the only one whom Bokuto called by his first name. He hated long names, so he would use nicknames or just the name that was shorter. So he called Kuroo by his last name and Tsukishima “Tsukki.” It was a good example of his own laziness, while he liked to call others lazy.

Suga arrived next, followed by Ushijima. He was a tall man with long brown hair and thick eyebrows. He seemed like the serious type, but Tsukishima soon learned that they were both experts at drinking and could both play chess really well. If he believed in things like that, it would have been a friendship made in heaven.

Since he was having fun for the first time in a long time, he hadn’t noticed that he drank so much. While he and Ushijima were the calm drunk types, Kuroo and Bokuto were the loud types, and Suga and Akaashi were subtle, careful drinkers. Even so, all of them were messy and all over the place. Alcohol was a dangerous thing to possess.

During the party, Tsukishima got a phone call. It was from Akiteru, his older brother. “Hey, Nii-san. What’s up?”

“Wait, Kei, are you drunk?” His brother instantly caught on.

“Kind of. So what is it?”

“Well, this may sound really sudden, but I’m getting married in a few weeks.”

“You are? Since when did you even have a fiancée?”

“About two years ago. We’ve been friends long before that.”

“I can’t believe you never told me. No one in this stupid family ever tells me anything until nothing can be done to change it.”

“Look. I get why you’re angry. But I didn’t want you to know, or our parents, because I wanted to tell you when I was sure about us.”

“So are you sure?”

“Yeah. I’m sure. She’s amazing. Saeko is amazing.”

“I’m looking forward to meeting her, then.” Tsukishima could feel happy for his brother; that was for sure. But he felt more like he was running in a race alongside Akiteru, with him suddenly speeding up and sprinting past him. He’d crossed the finish line.

 

If they hadn’t woken up with hangovers the next morning, they could very well be superhuman. But unfortunately, they did get hangovers that made them feel like their heads were going to explode any second. With the exception of Ushijima, they were all so drunk that they slept over the night, having left as soon as they woke up. It was a rather loud and sleepless night for everyone. Tsukishima’s headache and nausea wasn’t as bad as the others’, so he was forced to make breakfast. All he was in the mood to eat was soup.

“What happened to you yesterday? I saw you get a phone call and then you left,” Kuroo mumbled with a yawn.

He suddenly thought, _Is it just me, or is he like a cat?_ “My brother called. He’s getting married.”

“Oh? Good for him.”

“He’s going to send an invitation, and he told me to bring my roommate.”

“So that’s me?”

“Unless someone else lives here.”

“Okay, okay.” Kuroo looked around at the mess in the apartment. It was empty and although quieter, it was lonelier. “This is why I hate having those guys over sometimes,” he groaned.

“But the party was _your_ idea.”

“Yeah, yeah. Tell me something I _don’t_ know.” Kuroo jumped up from the sofa, having gotten an idea. “Did you name the recliner yet?” he asked, as if it wasn’t a completely random question.

Tsukishima stopped cutting the vegetables for the soup. “Are we naming furniture now? Seriously?”

“Why not? I named the sofa Sachi.”

“Alright, then.” He pondered the idea. “How about Sora?”

“Sora works. I don’t really get it, but it works.”

He resumed cooking. “Yeah.”

***

When Yamaguchi told him to tell him about his new life, Tsukishima really did tell him. He started with when they first met, and how Kuroo was somewhat hostile. He told him about the secret in his room and how much he wanted to know what it was. He continued with saying that Kuroo opened up a little, just enough for them to consider each other as a friend. He talked about how his grilled tuna was delicious, but he wasn’t good at making something as simple as cereal. He put too much milk and it turned soggy. He said that he was always hungry and very annoying. But they weren’t completely different. They’d both been hurt by their loved ones; Tsukishima with his parents and Kuroo with Kenma.

At the end of all this, Yamaguchi said only one thing: “Wow. This is the most I’ve heard you talk about someone, Tsukki.”

That night, Tsukishima fell asleep in deep thought about his brother’s marriage. Just what was this Saeko person like? What about her family? Why did she love him? Why did he love her? How could you want to live with someone for the rest of your life?

He’d probably been thinking too hard because he opened his eyes a few minutes after midnight. Outside was still dark, but technically it was the next morning. He didn’t get why midnights were called “midnight.” At that time, it was no longer night, it was morning. A very early morning where the sun doesn’t rise yet. Was that why it was still called mid _night_? Because the moon was still out? If so, then the moon was quite a powerful force. It controlled the tides of the ocean and the night life of human beings. This is a given, but Tsukishima liked the moon a lot.

Having went off on a tangent about the moon, he was able to fall back asleep. However, not long after doing so, he felt a hand on his body as it shook him back and forth on his bed. He angrily opened his eyes. It was five after midnight. He saw Kuroo hovering over him with a pained expression. “Come with me to the kitchen,” he said.

“Why? I’m trying to sleep.”

“Just come. I’m hungry.”

So he sat up, put on his glasses, and followed Kuroo to the kitchen. “Since you woke me up, I’m assuming you want me to make something for you. What do you want?”

“How about a tuna sandwich?”

“Okay. You really like fish, don’t you?”

“Yeah. I like mackerel too.”

Something about making a sandwich for his roommate at night—or morning formed a halfling of a smile on his face. It wasn’t really Kuroo himself, or the fact that he liked fish, or that he yawned like a cat. He wasn’t fond of human interaction and the idea of doing something for others. But this, this wasn’t so bad.

“When I was a child,” Kuroo began, “my parents worked a lot to get us by. We didn’t have much of anything except for ourselves. But now, things are different. I don’t like different. It makes me feel . . .”

“Alone?”

“Yeah. Alone.”

Tsukishima understood this too well. He wanted to comfort his friend, who was more like someone just “there” instead of a companion. But either way, he wanted to say something to make him feel better. The only problem was that the entirety of the situation was unexpected and he didn’t exactly know what to say and what not to say. Silence became his best bet, that is, until he caught Kuroo staring at him for some sort of response. He didn’t think about it anymore and said, “Um. Well, I’m here. For the time being, at least. And if worst comes to worst, there’s Bokuto.”

This was enough for Kuroo to seem happier than before. But happy might have been an overstatement, because it wasn’t easy to tell when he was happy—and not faking it. A better word was comfortable. Content.

***

Kuroo and his mother were birds of the same feather. They both liked and disliked the same things. At least, when it came to food. They liked the same type of music (rap) and were both nighttime people. They were especially twins in their looks. She looked half the age she probably was. The same half-lidded, dubious eyes, and the same scheming smile. Their hairstyles were similar too, with their bangs covering their right eyes.

That’s why it was no surprise when she came to the apartment with a bottle of wine and claimed, “Hi. Are you Tsukishima Kei? I’m Tetsu’s mother.”


	4. Bandages

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A mother, story chasing, a fight, and bandages.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Tsukishima greeted. “Um . . .”

“Auntie is fine.” Her smile was akin to Kuroo’s as well. If anything, the fact that they looked so much alike was more disturbing than endearing. They could have passed for twins instead of mother and son.

“Okay. Please come in, then. Kuroo isn’t home yet.”

She danced around the kitchen and the sofa. “So it’s just you and me?” Like Kuroo, she also asked obviously redundant questions. “Hmm. This is a wonderful place. Not too big, not too small.”

“You’ve never been here before?” he asked her.

She answered, looking down at her feet, “No. I’ve never tried. Sometimes I just don’t know how to face him.”

“Then, why are you here now?”

“Now, now, don’t worry about that. I’m actually a little hungry. Do you have any leftovers?”

“There’s some salted mackerel he didn’t finish because he was running late this morning. Is that okay?”

“That’s perfect,” she smiled, “Thank you.” He had a difficult time believing she was actually his mother, so he asked her if it was the truth; if she was his mother and not his twin sister. She replied, “We get that a lot. But I am the one who screamed him out of me in the hospital. So yes. I’m his mother.”

He continued, “Does he have anything in common with his father?”

For a second, her eyes seemed vacant. “It’d have to be his height. And personality. They have the same laugh. They would always take in any animal they’d find and then find them another home. My husband had a bad habit of shouting, sometimes harshly, and I think Tetsu caught it. He caught his hatred for milk too. What else is there?” She was having fun coming up with similarities. “Oh! They both loved teasing others. It was their way of showing you that they liked you.”

Tsukishima noticed she was using past tense, but deemed it not important because she may have not known if Kuroo still did these things. He decided to change the topic. “Do you want to do something while we wait for him?”

She perked up. “Like what?”

He actually did not think that far ahead. The only thing he could come up with was, “I can show you some music.”

So he did just that. He showed her his rock, his string guitar, his post-rock. She coerced him into singing the lyrics of some of them. One song was familiar to her. It was a song from one of Kuroo’s favorite movies. She remembered something hilariously golden about him. “So listen to this,” she began. “This song is from one of his favorite movies. But it’s one of those sticky romantic ones. He loves those.”

For the first time in forever, he cackled. Everything about it was funny. The word “sticky” instead of cheesy, the word “romantic” instead of anything else. He hated cheesy horror but was all for predictable romance? Quickly he collected his nerves and laughs as he said, with much difficulty, “Wow.”

“You’re pretty cute when you laugh,” Kuroo’s mother complimented. “You should do that more often, and he’ll fall for you.”

There were two things that shocked him just then. One, the fact that she most likely knew about his sexuality, and two, the fact that she even _joked_ about him liking him. He only addressed the first: “So you know about him?”

“Of course. I’m his mother. I’m glad to know that you know already. I guess he’s not a complete idiot for not waiting to tell you. Did he tell you about Kenma?”

“His friend Bokuto did.”

“Koutarou did? Ah, that little—!”

Kuroo walked in with his keys clashing and grocery bags looking like they weighed tons. He dropped everything as soon as he saw his mother. He ran to her and embraced her small body, burying his face in her neck. “Mom,” he breathed. “You came.”

And in that moment, Tsukishima realized Kuroo was most definitely his mother’s son. “I’m here,” she said. “I’m sorry I made you wait.”

Tsukishima learned that it was almost the anniversary of Kuroo’s father’s death. This was why his mother used past tense when talking about him, and why it was so important that she finally show up this year. His father passed when he was young, almost too young to comprehend what the car accident meant. It didn’t overwhelm him as much as it used to, but that was because he knew his mother was alive and well.

They went out to visit his grave, and Kuroo didn’t come back until the next morning. Tsukishima stayed awake, waiting for him. There wasn’t a particular motive behind it, but his mind just wouldn’t let him rest. Kuroo was surprised to see him awake on the recliner when he got back. “Why aren’t you sleeping?” he asked. “It’s not even dawn yet.”

“I couldn’t sleep.”

“Sorry about that. I guess you did get quite a shock.”

“My parents,” Tsukishima started, “divorced when I was twelve. I heard them argue about everything. Finances, other relationships, me and my older brother. It may have been typical stuff for couples to fight over, but that didn’t make it any less frustrating to see. One night, when I couldn’t sleep because of their shouting, I told my brother. He confronted them, and my father beat him. My mother didn’t say a word. After that, they got a divorce and even though I stayed with my mother, I no longer considered them my parents. That’s what I was thinking about.”

“And I thought _I_ was a magnet for disaster,” Kuroo remarked.

He smiled. “You probably are.”

Kuroo took his arm and lead him down the hallway to another door that was never apparent to him before. “This is the storage closet. It’s not visible to most people until they notice it.” He opened the door. Inside, aside from a broom, dustpan, mop, and boxes, a small shrine stood in the back. “That’s my dad.”

Although they didn’t have many similar physical features, he could tell that they had similar characters. He imagined how they spent their holidays, and what they did together on weekends. He wished he had what they must have had.

***

Kuroo was having a tough time with his job. He’d finally gotten a story, a good story, but it was clouded with danger. He was about to discover a truth about one of many biker gangs, but this one was a bigwig and they most likely stole a huge sum of money from the government. He hadn’t figured out all of the details yet, but he was positive about his conviction after hearing it in an alleyway after he spent time with his mother. He always carried around a recording device for situations like these.

“So what’s the problem, exactly? I thought you liked that kind of dangerous stuff,” Tsukishima responded to his rant.

“Sure, but I’m not a masochist. Danger is danger.”

“Oh? What’s this? Kuroo-kun is _scared_?” he goaded.

He glared at him. “ _Che_. You’ve gotten better at this, Tsukki.”

“I have a great example to follow, don’t I? Just do it and get it over with. If you die, oh well. It was nice knowing you.”

Now provoked and angry, Kuroo shouted, “OI! I’m not dead yet! I’m not gonna die, either! Just you wait!”

Tsukishima knew he wasn’t going to die. He’d just decided to have some fun of his own. His fun immediately ended, though, when after he left work doing overtime, he saw it. The sky turned to a dark sunset, with the moon ever so slightly visible. Ukai had told him to be careful going home because the biker gang was back in town. But that warning didn’t help when he noticed Kuroo among them in an alley next to a cigarettes store.

He stopped and stared at their backs as he walked backwards to only peek through. “We catch you following us,” one of them says, “and now you tell us it was a mistake? I don’t buy it, do you guys?” He turned to his fellow gangsters. “Nope,” they chimed.

“You bastards really aren’t making this easy . . . and I like my limbs the way they are.” Kuroo was smiling (what was new?) but he was clearly intimidated. Tsukishima felt the urge to charge in there, but aside from everything else he disliked, the one at the top of the list was confrontation.

“Just what business do you have with us? Huh?” another one of them said.

“Fine, then. Did you or did you not take the money?”

“Money? Even if we did, we wouldn’t tell you.”

“What if I had a recording of you talking about it and I took a picture of the case?”

Instantly he was pinned to the wall by them. “Then you’re burned toast." Now Tsukishima intervened maybe solely because of the ridiculously outdated threat. But his legs moved, and that’s all that mattered. He put his hand over the shoulder of the guy holding Kuroo by his collar. The guy, nearly bald, turned around with a menacing expression.

“Some people will eat burned toast,” he retorted, holding the guy by the shoulders and throwing him down on the ground. He threw a few blows towards him and went for the other guy who was also nearly bald. Kuroo, without any words, went for the last guy, who had hair long enough to contemplate for the others’ lack thereof.

“Who knew your karate skills would be useful one day?” Kuroo teased.

“Oh, shut up!”

 

By the time everything was over, they were back home at around ten and tired from the long day. “We had to walk to the police box, wait for them to help us in confiscating their _own money_ , have them question us, and walk back home. I have never been so done,” Kuroo sighed as he unbuttoned his jacket and put his legs up on Sachi. He turned to Tsukishima, who was sitting on Sora rather uncomfortably. The reflection of light in his glasses covered his eyes. “Hey, are you okay? You look pale.”

“I’m going to the bathroom,” he mumbled. Kuroo’s eyes watched his stagger and followed him promptly. In the mirror, he could tell Tsukishima was in pain. His knuckles were bruised and his face had tiny scrapes. Kuroo lifted up his shirt and saw a bruise near his abdomen. “Shit,” he hissed, “I only got away with a black eye . . . I didn’t know you were hurting this much.” As he opened the medicine cabinet and took out ointment, bandages and a gauze, he continued, “I’m sorry.”

As he rubbed the ointment on the bruise, Tsukishima winced from the pain. To distract himself from it, he paid attention to Kuroo’s hands rubbing his body. He said, “I don’t need an apology. I went out there myself. You didn’t even know I was there.”

Kuroo snickered. “Then you’re an idiot.” He picked up the bandages and used two for the cuts on his face. He took the gauze and wrapped it around his hands, then his stomach. He wasn’t the one experiencing the pain, but he felt everything Tsukishima was feeling. He continued, “But thanks. I’m glad you were there.”

Tsukishima’s attention focused on the bandages. He wondered if there existed any that could heal Kuroo’s bruised heart. And his own.

***

When Kuroo came home from work a few days later, Tsukishima braced himself as he noticed he was running towards him. “Tsukki, your birthday already passed?” he asked.

“Yeah, it was last month.”

“Why didn’t you say anything? I had to ask Koutarou!”

“Why do I have to say something? It’s just a day.”

Kuroo lightly hand-chopped his head. “But it’s the day you came into the world. Man, how stupid are you? Next year we’re celebrating.”

“Next year?” he repeated. Who knew if he’d still be here next year?

“You heard me. I’m not letting you leave just yet.”

He wanted to object to Kuroo’s unforeseen, out-of-character optimism, but he couldn’t find any words. He wouldn’t admit this, but he didn’t mind the thought of “next year.”


	5. Tears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A cake, talking about love, drawing on faces, tears, and a wedding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is honestly my favorite chapter of this fic...

He actually did it. He actually bought him a strawberry shortcake. They had a whole argument about this, about whether or not to celebrate Tsukishima’s long gone birthday. Of course, he already turned a year older, a year closer to his death, so he had no interest in celebrating anything. He assumed the matter was settled when Kuroo said “next year,” but before the year ended, he wanted to do _something._ They went back and forth for an hour until Kuroo “gave up” and “submitted.” But if anything, Tsukishima learned that Kuroo Tetsurou did not give up and did not submit to anyone unless they were his mother.

That’s where the strawberry shortcake came in, as the only dessert Tsukishima liked. He saw it, took it out of the fridge and stared at it with great urgency. He searched for a fork.

The cake did not last very long.

***

Akiteru’s wedding was near. Also coming up soon was Kuroo’s birthday, in which Tsukishima pretended he didn't know so that Kuroo would be surprised when he said it to him when it came. As far as weddings go, Akiteru could not have been any more stressed. They’d decided on a small wedding, with only close family and a few friends invited. Of course, this lessened the threat of things going wrong, but things still went wrong. Tsukishima wanted to do what he could to help, but he did not exactly understand what that meant until he met the deadly being called a wife-to-be. Saeko made him talk to the caterers and help her with the color scheme. Akiteru’s only part in planning the wedding was the financial business. He didn’t have any of the creative parts, because his opinion would be overrun by hers. Even their parents, who had been estranged for years, sided with Saeko’s ideas instead of their son’s.

“Never, ever get married, Kei. Never,” Akiteru warned.

Tsukishima had no intention of doing so. He hadn’t even found a girl he liked, and he doubted he would. So, he asked his brother, “Then why are you getting married?”

As if the answer was as easy as counting, he answered, “Because I love her. And I want to do so for all of the years to come.”

This was the part he couldn’t understand. “But what . . . does that even mean?”

His brother smiled and patted his shoulder. “I don’t know how to put it into your language, but I’ll say this. A lot of people will tell you that love is a feeling, an emotion. I mean, that’s part of it. It’s what you feel for someone that makes you want to love them. Whether you’re taking them to the hospital, sharing a snack, holding their hand, comforting them, telling them the truth, or just being there, it’s love . . . because you’re showing it. We can hear words and not believe them; we can tell words and they can be lies. We can’t read minds. But that’s what actions are for. Don’t you think so?”

***

A normal Saturday morning. Birds singing bird songs. The sun almost fully awake. Tsukishima headed to the kitchen for breakfast, starting with making some hot tea. He noticed Kuroo sleeping on Sachi, the sofa. She made a clear indent for him after the many times they’d slept together. He frowned, realizing his thoughts began to sound weird, and reminded himself that Sachi was in fact a piece of furniture, not a woman. Besides, Kuroo would never _sleep_ with a _woman._

_No no no no, why am I thinking these things?_

He hovered over and peered at his sleeping expression. It was a lot more endearing than his personality. His relaxed, calm face made Tsukishima want to go back to sleep. His bangs fell across his face, covering his eyes. He wiped them to the side, unveiling Kuroo’s short eyelashes and dark eyebrows.

If before Tsukishima was healthy, now he felt sick. He felt like his legs were giving up on him and that his lungs weren’t there to help him breathe, but to kill him. He went to his room and got a black, washable marker. He started to lightly draw on Kuroo’s face: a moustache, a beard, even _thicker_ eyebrows, and an eye on his eyelids. He stood back and admired his work. He felt much better.

When Kuroo woke up, he had an earful for lunch.

The next instance of this game occurred when Tsukishima was asleep. He woke up, and when he looked at himself in the mirror, he nearly shouted. Kuroo had done something utterly ridiculous. On his face was a woman’s makeup. Blush, eyeliner, eyeshadow, concealer, the whole deal. Forget that Kuroo even _knows_ about the stuff, and that he went out of his way to buy it just for this.

“KUROO!” he bellowed.

The perpetrator stepped out of his room, laughing. “You look amazing,” he jeered. “Who’s the lucky guy?”

He glared at him. “The _dead_ guy is about to be you.”

Later that morning, at work, Hinata noticed some makeup still on his face, even after the toil they went through in getting it off. “Do you like that sort of thing?” Hinata whispered.

“No. It was my roommate being a bastard. He’s an adult, he’s older than me, yet he acts like a child.”

“Oh.” He grinned. “He sounds like fun.”

“Fun?” Tsukishima frowned. “How so?”

“Well, because he likes to play around with you, it seems. I don’t know the guy.”

“He _does_ like provoking me.”

“Wait.” Hinata spread his hands out on the counter. “Provoking? How far does he go?”

“One time he . . .” Tsukishima stopped, because remembering the event riled his nerves. I had only been two months and a half since they started living together, and he already had a crazy (to him, at least) story to tell.

“What? What happened?”

“No. I’m not telling you. Forget it. Just take your flowers and go.”

“Eh?! Now I’m even more curious! Tell me, please!”

“Fine. But if you tell anyone else, you’re never getting any tulips here again.” The threat was harsher than it sounded.

Tsukishima started with his story. It was a night colder than others. He and Kuroo were watching a soccer game: U.S. versus Japan. A brutal match. Without knowing who won, Kuroo had fallen asleep and Tsukishima went to take a shower. Things were at peace for the next ten minutes. Then it happened. As he exited the shower, a body with long, toned legs ad a red T-shirt busted inside. The person, half-asleep, immediately went to the toilet to release himself.

There was a silence when there really shouldn’t have been. “Oh, hey Tsukki,” Kuroo spoke. He first looked up at Tsukishima’s red face and rolled his eyes down to his legs. He then looked down at himself. “Wow, Tsukki, you have a small—”

Instantly, he punched him. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

Kuroo, on the floor, held his nose to keep it from bleeding. “What? Nothing is. I don’t understand why you’re embarrassed. We’re both guys. And _I’m_ the gay one.”

 _Exactly,_ Tsukishima thought. He evaded the subject by going on an even more embarrassing one, “But  . . . is it really that small?”

Kuroo grinned. “Do you want me to check?”

“On second thought, no. Go away.”

Hinata did not stop laughing, even after the story, until Tsukishima started pushing him out of the store. “Do you like him or something?”

“Haha. No. As a matter of fact, you can go away, too.” As Hinata left, he started laughing again. Tsukishima's entire body was burning, even though it was November.  _Goddammit. Why is this happening to me?_

***

On the day of the wedding, Tsukishima was not in the mood for compliments. He was upset because Yamaguchi was not able to come. Still, he and Kuroo got complimented by many of the older ladies on how “dapper” they looked in suits. “You should wear suits all the time, Tsukki,” Kuroo said with a smile. “They look good on you.”

Thus, even though he was upsest, Tsukishima was given his one-way ticket to a heart attack.

When he saw his parents, he was surprised they even came, let alone existing in the same vicinity together. He felt nervous and sweaty, looking at them, and feared them noticing him. He’d heard they’d been involved in the wedding, but this was the first time seeing them in twelve years. He instinctively grabbed on to Kuroo’s arm. “Are they your parents?” he asked.

He let go of his arm, not realizing that he’d done so. “Yeah,” he answered, “I guess.”

Kuroo took back his hand and wrapped it over his arm. “Don’t. You don’t have to let go.”

He _wanted_ to let go, since his nerves seemed to be out of whack again and his heart wouldn’t stay still. But as he saw his parents walking towards him, his heart almost stopped. “Kei,” his mother said, “it’s been a while.”

“Twelve years is a while to you? You never fail to make me laugh,” he snapped.

“Hey! Don’t speak to your mother like that,” his father reprimanded.

“Mom? Dad? Where? I don’t see them.”

“Tsukki, calm down a bit,” Kuroo whispered.

“Kei. Even during all these years . . . I have never passed a day without wondering where you were and what you were doing,” his mother continued.

“But you didn’t bother to contact me. I didn’t bother because I want nothing to do with you. Still, here I am, and here you are, at Nii-san’s wedding. I wonder, would you come to mine?”

“Why wouldn’t we?” his father asked.

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because you never once came to my karate matches.”

Kuroo finally intervened. “Hi, um, okay. We’re leaving now. Sorry to bother you.” He pulled Tsukishima away from his parents to the hallway next to the men’s room. They sat on the floor. Tsukishima was against the wall, curled up and shaking. Kuroo took his arms away from his face and saw his tears. His face was scrunched together, his eyes shut. The tears were forcing their way out from his eyes. He moaned and hiccupped, and didn’t stop. “I told you to calm down . . .” Kuroo reached out and wiped his tears. “Then again, you would still be crying inside, huh.” He removed Tsukishima’s glasses from his face so that he could cry without wetting them. He pulled him in and embraced him tightly. It was the first time Tsukishima ever grabbed onto someone so strongly and wept into the collar of their shirt.

The rest of the wedding went without any fights or sad tears. Kuroo went to get food to help him calm down, and came back with the bride’s younger brother, Ryuu. Tsukishima looked up at him wearily. The young Tanaka took this as a challenge, and said, “You wanna start something with me? Huh?” The fact that he tried to sound and look intimidating made him the exact opposite.

During the vows, Tsukishima felt a lot better. He felt happy for his brother; that he was moving on with his life and getting married. But he was frustrated at the fact that he wouldn’t be able to come over whenever he wanted to now. They couldn’t eat tons of ice cream bars while watching old martial arts movies. They couldn’t wrestle with each other. They could no longer do these things, because he was going to have a different life now, with his wife and yet-to-be-born children. He would have to take them to school, pick them up, deal with bullies, and their relationships. Akiteru was going to become more and more distant. And it wouldn’t be his fault.

Since Tsukishima had to deal with this fact, all he could hope for was for his brother to be happy. He never wanted to see his terror-stricken face again. He had to be a good, kind husband. Of course, they would fight, but he hoped they wouldn’t end the day without looking at each other and saying, “I’m sorry. I love you.” He hoped Akiteru wouldn’t follow in their parents’ footsteps. He had to be a good father. A really good father.

When Kuroo touched his hand, he knew that he was crying again. “What’s wrong? Why are you crying again?”

“No, these aren’t angry tears.”

“Then?”

“I don’t know. But I’m not angry. Or sad.”

_Nii-san, please be happy. I really want you to._

As the bride and groom kissed, claps and cheers resounded throughout the hall.


	6. Stupid Men (in the snow)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A birthday, a snow storm, and a disturbing revelation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something weird happens at the end of this chapter, but I have an explanation for it.

One thing Tsukishima was aware of was Kuroo’s dislike of surprises. However this particular case of his birthday was an exception. He contacted Bokuto, who contacted the rest of the crew. He also got a hold of his mother. For the surprise party, just beer, shrimp flavored snacks, and cheesecake were necessary. Kuroo didn’t like many sweets and snacks. As for presents, just your being there was probably good enough for him. But Tsukishima felt he had to get him something, maybe as a thank you for being there that time at the wedding. He didn’t know what to get, though, because there was the harsh but very true reality that he didn’t know what he would want. He knew him fairly well, even if it hadn’t been three full months yet.

He settled on a tie. A tie with tiny cartoon cats smiling everywhere, because cats reminded him of Kuroo. Hinata helped with the idea. He’d suggested, “Why not get him something no one else would think of?” For doing this, he invited Hinata to the party as well. When he’d given him the address and apartment number, he was shocked. “My friend lives in this building.”

“It’s a small world.”

When Kuroo came home for his surprise party, and everyone jumped up and shouted “SURPRISE!!” he was not moved. He wasn’t even thinking about his birthday, let alone a surprise party. He explained it, saying that a guy from work had made him upset. He didn’t bother giving out the guy’s name, or why exactly he bothered him, but it would take him a while to get in the mood for a party. Exhausted, he dropped his bag and collapsed onto Tsukishima. “I’m tired,” he whispered, “so let me rest for a little bit.”

Bearing the weight of Kuroo’s body was something he could not do, so he fell on the floor with him. “On me? You want to sleep on me?” he asked. He was clearly irritated and embarrassed because of the spectators.

“Yes. On you. Stop whining, will ya?” Kuroo took off his blazer and rested his head deeper into Tsukishima’s stomach. _The cat tie is too perfect for him,_ he thought. _Just how much like a cat can he be?_

Trying to hide the lucid pleasure on his face, he said, stumbling on his words, “Sorry, everyone. I guess since this guy won’t wake up until tonight, you all should just go home.”

“Are you sure he won’t wake up?” Suga asked.

Kuroo’s mother answered, “If he’s like that, he won’t. Not until dark.”

Bokuto added, “Well, whatever. When he wakes up, you two can celebrate. Give him a ‘happy birthday’ for us.”

“Sure thing,” Tsukishima replied. He, being more ticklish than one would assume, wanted to break into laughter because Kuroo was nuzzling into his lower area which was more sensitive. So he shifted a little so not as to wake him up but to make himself more comfortable.

“And give him plenty of kisses for me!” Kuroo’s mother exclaimed.

He viciously snapped, “No way in hell. Do that yourself.”

She sighed and kissed her son on his cheek. She then kissed Tsukishima on his forehead. “Have fun.”

Finally, when the house was silent again, Tsukishima did not hesitate to grin. If it were someone else, say Yamaguchi or Yachi, he would probably vomit. If this were happening to him a few months ago, he would likely also vomit. But here he didn’t have the energy or the feeling of doing so. He could only sigh and laugh. “What is it about you?” Truly, what was it about him that nulled every thought in his mind yet magnified every sense in his body? His honesty? His looks? His animal-like behavior? How relaxed he was about everything?

Tsukishima, for the life of him, could not come up with a sufficient answer to explain why he wanted to lie down beside him and look at his face. There wasn’t anything very admirable or amiable about him honestly, but he enjoyed his company and presence. It wasn’t anything as extreme or complicated as love. How could it even be anything close to love? Maybe it was physical? That would be even weirder. Nothing made any sense.

After hours of uncomfortable agony, Kuroo awoke and freed Tsukishima from being a bed. “Huh? Where is everybody?”

“They left, since the person whose birthday they came to celebrate fell asleep upon coming home.”

“That’s a shame.”

“Well, now we have the snacks and beer to ourselves.”

Kuroo yawned. “Very true.”

Suddenly, Tsukishima’s phone buzzed. He got a message from an unknown number. It read:

_Hinata here! I see why you like Kuroo so much, he’s very good-looking._

He didn’t even care how he got his number, he just fiercely pressed on the keys on his phone. “What are you doing?” Kuroo asked.

“Talking to Hinata.”

“Hinata?”

“Yeah. He invades the shop from time to time.” He answered the message: _Shut up. I don’t like him. I don’t like men._

Hinata: _It's possible to like him without liking men, you know._

Tsukishima: _Why are you giving me advice I don’t need? Do you like guys or something?_

Hinata: _We’re not talking about me, here. We’re talking about you. Your personality is just ridiculously walled up for some reason, and I want to get you to break that wall down._

Tsukishima: _Who said I wanted to break it down? What if I like it there just the way it is?_

Hinata: _Do you? Because you wouldn’t have replied to my message if you wanted that wall to say there._

Tsukishima couldn’t answer, so he didn’t. For a while, there were no new messages. But Hinata changed the topic.

Hinata: _You know what? Under my contacts, I’m going to put you as Grumpyshima. How’s that?_

Tsukishima: _Whatever. Do what you want._

Hinata: _Fine. I will._

Nothing else was said for the rest of the night. Tsukishima noticed on the contact name that Hinata’s first name was Shouyou. Hinata Shouyou. What a difficult person. He thought the matter was finished, but was proved wrong when the bubbling orange lightbulb came rushing in on Sunday. Tsukishima’s Sunday shifts were later in the day, when a lot of people came to buy flowers. But it was the first time Hinata ever came in on a Sunday.

“What are you doing here?” he asked him.

Hinata, nearly out of breath, answered, “Hmm? What do you mean?”

This was why Tsukishima couldn’t handle “hot-blooded” people. “You’re sweating and out of breath. You rushed in here in a panic.”

“A panic? No, I just decided to run here from home and this is the result. I need to sit,” he explained, sitting on the floor (there were no chairs except for the ones behind the counter).

“So do you want flowers again this week?”

“Nah. I just wanted to hang out with you.”

“Why?”

“Aren’t we friends?”

 _Since when?_ He refrained himself from saying this; he was trying to become a nicer person. “Sure,” he said instead. He didn’t actually mind it, but he didn’t want to somehow “catch” Hinata’s “hot-blooded” personality.

***

As the days went by, they got even colder. It wasn’t cold enough to snow yet, or so everyone thought. On Christmas Eve, Tsukishima and Kuroo planned to head out to their respective families (for Tsukishima, it was only his brother and Saeko’s family) early to avoid most of the rush. They didn’t realize that day was the rush, or that the forecast expected snow. A snow storm.

Finding each other back home since the transportation situation gave them headaches, they grumbled for the next hour or so before trying again. They came back only feeling even more upset.

“Goddammit! Why does she have to live in Tokyo?” Kuroo exclaimed. Tsukishima could certainly sympathize, because Yamaguchi and Akiteru both moved to Tokyo after college. Distance was a maddening, depressing thing to have to deal with.

“Why don’t we just spend it together?” he suggested.

Kuroo stopped. “Toge . . . you mean just us two?”

“Obviously. No one is going to come here in this weather. Why? Does it sound weird?”

Kuroo scratched his head and looked down at the floor. “No. It’s fine.”

“So who’s cooking? Takeout is out of the question.”

“I’ll do it, I guess. What do you feel like having?”

Taken aback by his gentle tone and words, Tsukishima almost didn’t answer. “Oh, uh, mackerel?”

“Not me. _You._ ”

“Then, _sukiyaki._ ”

Kuroo brightened. “Really? That’s it?”

“Yeah.”

“Whew. I’m glad. _Sukiyaki_ is a cinch.”

Tsukishima was at odds with himself. One side of him was _slightly_ enjoying this side of Kuroo. However the other side, the side that grew stronger by the second, could not have been any more creeped out. “Are you alright? Why are you being all weird?”

“Am I? I don’t know. Maybe it’s the Christmas spirit.”

“Not too long ago, you were cursing at Japan.”

“Tsukki, do you want _sukiyaki_ or not?”

“I want it.”

“Then shut up for a while.” That was more like him.

In the middle of cooking, he yelled. He dropped everything he was doing and grabbed his coat. Tsukishima sensed he was about to go outside, and objected. “What are you doing? You know it’s bad out there.”

“The noodles,” he said. “We need noodles.”

“Just for noodles, you’re going to get yourself frozen to death? Are you mad?”

Kuroo, without hesitation, tied the laces of his boots. “Yeah, I’m mad. Don’t worry, Tsukki. I’ll be right back.”

“Are you sure?”

“For both of our sakes, let’s say I am.” And he left. Tsukishima waited in distress; ten minutes, twenty, thirty. He wasn’t back yet. He didn’t want to leave the food cooking, so he went downstairs and asked Suga to watch it. He ran outside. Everything was almost completely covered in a white blanket. You couldn’t look up at the grey skies without getting a snowflake or five somewhere. It was a blur. His glasses didn’t help, they just caught more snow. First, he checked if Kuroo was anywhere nearby by calling out his name. No response. Then, he walked down the street to the supermarket. He was nowhere in there.

“You stupid man,” he shouted, “where are you!”

Not knowing what else to do or where else to go, he went back home. Thanking Suga, he stared at the boiling food and sighed. He went to Sora, the recliner, and without pulling up the leg rest, curled up in the seat. He hung his head in the space between his kneecaps. “You stupid man,” he repeated. He waited for another ten minutes before hearing a jingle of keys. He jumped up. “Kuroo,” he said helplessly as the man himself trudged through the door.

As he set the ice-cold bag of noodles on the counter, he looked up at Tsukishima’s face. He laughed wearily. “What’s with that face? I’m standing right here, you know. I feel like a block of ice right now, though. I got lost when I left the store.”

“You are an alien,” he said.

“What?”

“You’re unreal. I can’t believe you did that for noodles.”

“It wasn’t just for noodles.” Kuroo sighed and grabbed the blanket on Sachi, wrapping it around himself like a burrito. “Can you boil them for me? I have got to warm up.”

Tsukishima complied and in addition made him tea. “You said it wasn’t just for noodles.”

“I thought it would be nice for you to have an actual Christmas, even though it's Christmas Eve. When was the last time you truly spent a holiday with your family? And I don’t mean just your brother.”

He couldn’t remember. The memories from before his parents fought all the time were long gone. He didn’t realize they’d been filed away. “So, you’re saying you did such a stupid thing for _me_?”

“You make it sound like you wouldn’t have if our positions were switched.”

“No way. Maybe if our personalities were switched.”

“Ouch! I felt that one.”

Tsukishima sighed in relief. He almost had a heart attack at twenty-five years old.

***

Their New Year’s wasn’t anywhere near as frightening as Christmas was. After having a sense of fear he hadn’t had in a while, now Tsukishima experienced more of these drastic physical sensations. For him, he would rather see Kuroo without a shirt than see him lying on the floor, not breathing. This was how he dealt with his ears burning and his heart jumping everywhere. The start of all this was, in fact, when he saw Kuroo walking around the house without a shirt on New Year’s Eve. He’d seen Kuroo’s lower area before, so this should have been trivial in comparison, but it wasn't. It was somehow worse; seeing this was not good for his heart. He felt something was legitimately wrong with himself. He was close to evading him and shielding his eyes, but he realized that would seem suspicious.

“Where’d your shirt go?” he finally asked.

“That’s what I want to know. It’s the one that has the cat with the sunglasses.”

“Oh, that? I think you took it with you in the bathroom.” He tried to sound as casual as he could.

“Really? Thanks. What would I do without you, Tsukki?”

“Who knows?”

After that, they watched movies until midnight. Then they slept for a while and visited the shrine in the morning. Tsukishima prayed for his feelings to be explained somehow.

 

Kuroo could handle one of Tsukishima’s bizarre, laughable sneezes. But when Tsukishima began sneezing uncontrollably the day after they went to the shrine, he could no longer hold in his laughter. “You sound like a dying horse!” he cackled.

“I’m not even a horse. Horses are beautiful creatures who don’t deserve your insults. You sound like a dying hyena when you laugh. How’s that?” Tsukishima went on the defensive and the attack, though his voice sounded genuinely rough.

“I hit a soft spot, eh? No matter. Hyenas aren’t so bad.”

He started coughing, and Kuroo immediately discarded his next insult. “What’s wrong? Are you sick?” His voice went from the condescending tone he had before to a careful, gentler one. Tsukishima liked that one.

“Probably. Can you make vegetable soup?”

Kuroo smiled. “Of course I can.”

Later that evening, Tsukishima got worse, so Kuroo took care of him and put him to bed. “Thanks,” he said.

“No problem. This is what roommates are for.”

The next morning, Tsukishima made a grave mistake. One that would definitely change his relationship with Kuroo, whether he liked it or not. He was alone in the house since Kuroo went to work, so he had to get up and make his own tea. He wobbled around because it was difficult to stand. He ended up bumping into the door to Kuroo’s room and fell inside. He looked up frantically. There was only a bed and a desk at the left. On the bed were cats. Not actual cats, but cats on the sheets. He had a cat poser on the wall as well. His pencils and stray socks also had cat prints.

“Is this a shrine for cats? For real?” he asked aloud. “Just who is that guy?”

Instead of being afraid or creeped out, his previously forsaken curiosity reawakened itself. He couldn’t feel pity or sadness for Kuroo. He just wanted to know what the problem was. He didn’t even think that he was a lunatic obsessed with cats, though he clearly had a fetish. It was unusual, and strange, but it didn’t change what Tsukishima thought—and felt about Kuroo. There were questions, there was an answer. There was an explanation. And whatever it was, he would accept it.


	7. Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A nightmare, something intimate, and a visit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all your comments and stuff! :33  
> This is where the story picks up! Enjoy!

After much pleading and loud arguing, Kuroo surrendered and explained it to Tsukishima that night. “This is why I didn’t want you going in there,” he complained, “because I knew you’d ask about it. And I knew I’d have to explain.”

Tsukishima pressed on. “Well, duh. Who _wouldn’t_ want an explanation after seeing something like that?” Kuroo sighed heavily. Tsukishima had just made his tuna sandwich, but he was already almost done eating it. He tried to get out of this as much as possible. “Kuroo, please. I have to know.”

“Fine. I’m not a cat freak. I just use them as a distraction.”

“As a distraction?”

“Yeah. For my”—he clenched his teeth—“claustrophobia.”

“Claust—oh, is that why you leave the door to your room cracked open? Because otherwise you feel confined?”

“Exactly. But my room isn’t as bad as the storage closet. Are you happy now? You have your answer.”

“No, wait. Since when did you have it?”

“Not long after Kenma left. So for a year or so now. Sometimes I can’t go to sleep because of it. So I wake up at times like this. Sometimes I sleep on the sofa.” Kuroo’s eyes had that same vacancy his mother’s eyes had when she talked about his father. Tsukishima had to apologize for prying. But as soon as he tried, Kuroo stopped him. “Don’t. It was bound to happen sometime, right? I just don’t like talking about it. Go to sleep.”

Things seemed closed for the night, so both them went to their respective rooms. Tsukishima wasn’t able to sleep, even after an hour. He kept thinking about Kuroo, and how “Kuroo” was such a tedious name to say all the time. As if right on cue, he felt his presence in the room. He rolled over and saw his face above him. His expression was strained and he had been sweating profusely. “What is it?” he asked, trying to be gentle.

“I couldn’t sleep,” he stated simply.

“A nightmare?”

He nodded. “About Kenma and my father leaving me.”

“Do you want to sleep here?” he offered.

He shook his head no. “With me,” he stammered.

“You want me to sleep with you? In _your_ room? Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure. Now get up before I pull you out. I want to sleep.”

So he did just that. They went to his room as Kuroo squeezed his hand. He was clearly trying to fight off the demons of his phobia. They dug themselves under the sheets and looked at each other. “Does this feel weird?” he asked Tsukishima. He ears might have been turning a little red.

“No? Not really.” This, of course, was a lie. He could not have felt any more nervous and unstable than now.

Kuroo sensed this lie. “Nice try, wise guy. But your ears are pink.”

“So are yours.”

“Ha? The Great Demon Lord never shows embarrassment.”

 _Just calling yourself that is an embarrassment._ “Whatever. Go to sleep, Great Demon Lord.”

They turned away from each other and, without realizing the other was doing the same thing, they smacked their foreheads and lightly punched themselves. _I’m such an idiot,_ they thought.

Tsukishima suddenly remembered what he wanted to ask Kuroo. “Hey. Can I call you ‘Tetsu’? You’re last name is getting really annoying.”

Kuroo, half-asleep already, replied, “You . . . want to call me that? Only my mother calls me that. Not even Kenma or Koutarou—”

“Fine. Forget it, then.”

“No, wait. You can. It’s fine. Can you say it right now?”

“Um, Tetsu. Was that okay?” Tsukishima underestimated the power of names and how saying one could make him feel like a ticking time bomb.

“That was perfect. Oh, and Tsukki?”

“What?”

“You look weird without your glasses.”

***

The name of the man Kuroo hates is Sawamura Daichi. He was a man without many distinctive features, for example hair like Kuroo’s, but whenever you’d see him you’d know that it was him. He was a shorter, well-built man with short brown hair and pearl brown eyes. The reason why he hated him was because their personalities clashed. Also, Kuroo’s boss seemed to favor Daichi more. They wouldn’t not argue about something, whether it was about a story, who would write what, and even who would buy lunch for the other while on a stakeout. Tsukishima found this ridiculous, and told Kuroo to stop talking about him.

“Don’t worry, Tsukki. You’re my one and only,” Kuroo joked.

While they were on the topic of other guys, Tsukishima told Kuroo about how much Bokuto bothered him sometimes. He talked about the time in college when they first met at his party, and it was during that time when he met a guy who clashed with his personality. They just locked eyes, talked for a bit, and they knew they hated each other. He couldn’t remember the guy’s name, but he had pretty distinctive features. Per Bokuto’s request, when they played spin the bottle, he had been matched up with the guy he didn’t like. Bokuto knew this, and did this on purpose “just to tease” him. He and the others kept chanting, “Kiss, kiss, kiss!”

So it happened, they kissed, and it took Bokuto the rest of the night to be forgiven by Tsukishima.

“How did the kiss with that guy feel?” Kuroo asked, leaning in closer.

“What kind of a question is that?” he said nervously.

“I’m just curious. How did the kiss feel? Was it your first?”

His interrogation of his past made him uncomfortable, especially since it was about _that_ topic. About guys and kissing and the like. But he answered him, because he was weak to Kuroo’s gaze and closeness. “I don’t really think I liked it? It felt weird. I mean, I was young and stupid, so I wouldn’t be surprised if I _did_ like it. And it was my first. My first kiss was with a _guy_ I didn’t even like.”

“Then . . . do you want to try again?”

Tsukishima’s eyes almost popped out of their sockets. His heart expanded in his chest, leaving him in pain. He touched his chest and grabbed his shirt. He wanted to take it off; he was burning inside. His fingers and toes felt numb. “What did you just say?”

“What if you like the kiss better this time? Why don’t you try again?”

“I never wanted to kiss him in the first place. Don’t mess around.”

“Is that a yes or a no? If you don’t want to, I’ll stop.” Tsukishima didn’t know how to answer. He couldn’t. He couldn’t utter another word from his frozen mouth, he couldn’t push him away with his frozen hands. His whole body was frozen in time, his words caught in his tongue. He hated this moment, but he couldn’t stop it. He hated that he _wouldn’t_ stop it. As Kuroo came in closer, their lips centimeters apart, he submitted completely. He didn’t know why, but he figured this physical desire of his would finally end.

He hoped it would.

Their lips touched, and for the first time ever, he actually found himself not wanting it to end. At first it was gentle and soft, but since neither of them pulled away, Kuroo kissed him harder. He didn’t know what to do about this intimacy, since he’d never experienced it before. He let it be, though, and let his body control him for a bit. He wrapped his arms around Kuroo, embracing the kiss and embracing everything. He felt his tongue slide in. Their breaths and desires were in sync.

Why was this happening? Maybe they both looked to each other to put out the raging fire in their hearts. Maybe this feeling—whatever it was, was mutual? Either way, he wanted to use this moment as much as he could, for this one time only.

When they stopped, Tsukishima covered his lips. They’d never been used that much before, especially by another man. Kuroo stared at him in complete surprise and with a “what-the-fuck-did-we-just-do” face. “I thought for sure that you were going to push me away,” he said.

“I thought so, too. But my body didn’t move.” He buried his face in his hands. He hated himself.

“Okay. Well, that was fun.”

“Yeah.”

“You don’t want to do this again, do you?”

“Nope, no.” Another lie. However, even though it was a lie, he didn’t want to get into something with his male roommate over something so physical and ridiculous.

Was it really ridiculous, though?

Suddenly, the doorbell rang. He heard laughs at the cat sound the doorbell made from the other side of the door. He asked, “Who is it?”

“Hinata! And a friend. I felt like coming over. I have snacks,” the voice announced.

He reluctantly opened the door, and as if the situation wasn’t bad enough already, it just got worse. Why did it have to be him to get into messes like these? Kuroo walked up behind him and peered over at the two men standing in the doorway. Tsukishima wanted do dig up a hole, bury himself in it, and listen to music there for eternity. Hinata’s friend recognized him as well, but all they could do was evade each other’s eye contact so as to not seem suspicious. But apparently, Kuroo and Hinata were hawks, and sensed the awkwardness.

“Why are you guys so quiet?” Hinata asked.

The man had that v-shaped hair and a frown that made him instantly recognizable. He was only somewhat shorter than Tsukishima, and wore a basic shirt with basic black pants. The ridiculous part was that Hinata said that his friend lived in the apartment complex as well. If it was this friend, then Tsukishima was officially an idiot.

“No, it’s nothing,” he said, turning to the man, “What’s your name?”

“Kageyama. Kageyama Tobio,” he replied quietly. He scoffed and scratched his head. “Can we come in now?”

“That’s really funny,” Hinata said, “you guys live across from each other and yet don’t even know each other’s names.”

“I know him,” Kuroo intervened. “We talked over coffee here once. But that was a long time ago.” The three of them sat at the table as Tsukishima went to make the tea. Kuroo eyed Kageyama intensely. “So when did you two meet?” he asked Hinata.

“Three years ago. I was visiting my sister in the hospital and I ran into him. He was an intern,” he answered.

This was the first time Tsukishima heard that Hinata’s sister was in the hospital, but it made sense. She must have been really sick if she still wasn’t released yet.

“So, Kageyama.” Kuroo’s voice was sharp, even making Tsukishima jump. “Can you honestly tell me you’ve never met Tsukishima before?”

 _Damn, he’s sharp,_ he thought.

Kageyama glared at him for being so obvious about it, and sighed. “No.”

“Then, what’s your connection?” Kuroo should definitely have been a lawyer instead of a journalist.

Freeing Kageyama from having to explain, he said, “He’s the guy I told you about, Tetsu. The one from college. My first kiss.”

“What?!” Hinata screeched. “Kageyama, is that true?”

“As much as I wish it wasn’t, it is.”

Kuroo’s eyes widened. “What an annoying turn of events,” he muttered. For once, Tsukishima could not agree more. He had enough Kuroo on his plate to want to deal with _two_ hot-blooded idiots who would make matters worse. This was a nightmare.


	8. Words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of jealousy, greetings, words in the laundromat, a desire, and something that changes everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be honest, I have no words for my feelings about this chapter...(and that's the title, lol)

As Kuroo helped Tsukishima fix lunch, the latter noticed a change in his mood. It wasn’t an unfamiliar thing, to see him grumbling under his breath and constantly frowning. But Tsukishima was bothered by this because he was acting like this _now_. He could only assume it was because of Kageyama’s appearance, but then that rose many other questions he was afraid of asking. So instead he asked him, “Tetsu. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he replied, clearly lying. But it even seemed that he hated the lie.

He stopped him from walking away. “Look. I know you’re upset. But I don’t get why. My glasses may help me see better, but they don’t help me see through you. So don’t expect me to figure it out without you telling me, because I can’t.”

“Why are you so good at making me talk when I don’t want to?” he said with a forced smile.

“We’ve lived together for half a year. I think it’s pretty much in my wheelhouse now.”

“Then, what if I told you I was jealous of him?”

He replied bluntly, “If you told me that, I would check your temperature.”

Kuroo rolled his eyes. “But what if I _didn’t_ have a fever?”

He stopped, because that was as far as he’d thought about it. “Then, I don’t know.”

“Exactly,” Kuroo grumbled, going in his room.

“Is everything okay?” Hinata asked.

“It’s fine. He’s just tired.” Everything was not fine.

After Hinata and Kageyama left, he immediately went to check on Kuroo, who was sulking in his bed. He emitted waves of frustration upon seeing his face. “What do you want?” he grumbled.

“There’s something you should know.”

“What?”

“About that kiss earlier, I want to thank you.”

“ _What?_ ”

“I was feeling a little . . . hormonal, I guess, and you helped.”

“I can’t believe this. Just what do you think that kiss was about? A kiss like that . . .”

“I think . . .” He trailed off, because he didn't want to say what he thought.

“What do you think? Come on. Why don’t you ever say anything when it comes to . . .” Kuroo covered himself with the bed sheets. “You know what, never mind. Forget it.” Not knowing what else to say, Tsukishima left the room.

***

When Tsukishima came home from work one day, Kuroo greeted him with strange words. He said, “Welcome back.” This wasn’t strange to most Japanese families, but to him, it was unexpected.

“I didn’t say ‘I’m home,’ though,” he said.

“Then, don’t you think that you should?”

“But why?”                                                          

Kuroo put his hands on his waist and hung his head. “You are hopeless. Just because you ask ‘why’ doesn’t mean there’s an answer. I hate ‘why.’ It’s a question without just one answer.”

“I’m sorry that I can’t cure your hatred for ‘why.’ So let’s try this again. I’ll leave and then act like I’m coming home the first time. I’ll say ‘I’m home’ and you’ll say ‘welcome back.’ How does that sound?”

Kuroo nodded in agreement. Tsukishima stepped out and closed the door, taking him a minute to realize he forgot his keys. “Hey, Tetsu?” he called.

“Yeah?”

“I left my keys inside the house.”

“Ha? How much of an idiot are you?” Kuroo opened the door from within.

Tsukishima said, “I’m home.”

Taken aback because he actually said it, he paused. With a smile he replied, “Welcome back.”

 

It had been a while since the last time either of them did their laundry. It was the first time they did it together. The nearest laundromat was open twenty-four hours a day, so they went out at two in the morning to do their laundry (to avoid lots of people). The morning still looked like night; the moon up high above them accompanied with a mysterious stillness of the world around them. At times like these, things stopped. Some lives paused, some continued. It was almost as if time itself ceased, until the chirping of the birds as the sun rose.

“You’re not afraid to go at this hour?” Kuroo asked.

Tsukishima, who was wearing his leather jacket (he grew attached to it), answered, “No. Why should I be? Unless, _you’re_ the one who’s afraid.”

He stood up straight and laughed haughtily. “Me? Afraid of the dark? Ha! You must not know what my name is.”

“I know what your name is. I’ve used it more than I’ve used regular greetings. Seriously though, are you alright? You seem pale. Should we go back?”

“No, let’s go. I’m fine.”

“Should I hold your hand?” This was supposed to be a joke, but Tsukishima noticed Kuroo seriously contemplating the idea.

He held out his hand. “If you don’t mind.”

“I don’t.” Tsukishima took hold of his hand. It felt bigger than his.

Upon entering the silent laundromat, they realized they were the only ones inside. After filling up the machines and paying the money, they sat on the dirty blue chairs and waited. Tsukishima put his hands at his sides and looked up at the ceiling. He felt Kuroo’s hand touch his, and a spark flew somewhere in his body. He’d been fine around Kuroo for the past few days, but this was something else entirely. He simply felt warmer.

For the longest time, he’d been trying to deny this feeling, and all the many other feelings he wouldn’t have been able to experience if not for Kuroo. But it was _there_ , and alive, and he couldn’t ignore it. He wasn’t sure if this was what love felt like, but a simple hand touch could send his mind to the universe. That had to mean _something._ So, he had feelings for Kuroo. He had feelings for his roommate. As dreadful as it sounded, he was probably in love with him.

But what was he supposed to do with this? Tell him? Ha. No way. There may have been the slightest chance that he felt the same, but he did not want to even think about taking that chance. He wouldn’t want to ruin what they had now.

All he wanted to do now was hold his hand. So he did. He grabbed Kuroo’s hand and held it to his face. He noticed the many tiny hairs on it, continuing up his arm. He tugged at one. “Ouch! That hurts like needles, you know! And I hate needles!” he whined.

Tsukishima laughed. Kuroo eyes gazed at him for a while. “You smiled,” he said.

“It’s not the first time.”

“No, I mean, you _smiled._ You’re human after all!” Instead of retaliating like usual, he sighed and looked downcast. This was on purpose, of course, to mess around with Kuroo for once. Kuroo noticed this and immediately took back his words. “Did that hurt? I’m sorry.” Tsukishima ignored him. Inside, he was dying from laughter. Kuroo continued, “Tsukki, I said I’m sorry. I really really really am sorry. Forgive me!”

Tsukishima gave up and said, holding in the will to laugh, “Sorry. I was just messing with you. Your jokes can never hurt me.”

“Don’t scare me like that again! Please.”

The both of them sat back and the only noise being made was the sound of the washing machines doing their job. Tsukishima once again took Kuroo’s hand. “I have a question for you, Tetsu.”

“Shoot.”

“Why are you claustrophobic?”

“Isn’t that obvious? I don’t like small spaces. I start sweating and I freak out.”

“Yeah, but why? What brought it on?”

“Oh.” He frowned. “Well, I guess after Kenma left, I looked at my room and I looked back at our life together and realized how small it was. I realized how small my troubles were compared to everything else. I noticed that my room was small, life was small, my existence was small, and I feared that. I still do. I fear that the smallness of my life is going to swallow me whole, leaving not even a speck of dust behind. I’m afraid that my life will leave me behind.” He paused, then he added, “But it’s only in our house, though. Anywhere else is okay. There are just too many memories in that place. And yet, I don’t want to move.”

Tsukishima was silent, but he squeezed Kuroo’s hand as if to say, “You’re not going anywhere.” The machines made a beeping sound because they finished washing. Kuroo got up and put the clothes into the drier.

Time for round two.

As he sat back down, this time he took Tsukishima’s hand. Above them, the green fluorescent light began to die out. “What a shame,” Kuroo commented. “That light was so pretty, too.”

“About Kageyama,” Tsukishima began.

“What about that v-shaped bastard?”

“Hinata told me he likes him. He doesn’t know, but eventually he will. So I don’t think you should hold a grudge anymore. I never liked him, remember? And he never liked me.”

“ _Che._ So you’re telling me to drop it?”

“Yeah. Because you act like a child when you’re like that. And you _aren’t_ a child.”

“I know. And we’re not even together. But for a guy like that to be your first kiss . . . I just want to throw something.”

Kageyama probably felt the same about Tsukishima, so he let the rude remark slide. “What do you want to throw? Get it out of your system now.”

“I don’t know. Got anything in mind?”

“All we have is detergent. I don’t want to waste the bleach.”

“That’s perfect. Help me out, will ya?”

Tsukishima scoffed. “Why would I help you destroy someone else’s property?”

“We’ll clean up after. Come on. It’ll be fun.”

It was fun. Throwing the open carton of detergent around so that its contents spilled everywhere, was indeed fun. They each took turns on parts of the walls. The color blue soon filled the laundromat, the dim grey color of the walls being overpowered. They even got the detergent on their clothes. By the time they finished vandalizing, their clothes were dried. Kuroo released them from the hot drier and smelled them. “I’m actually really glad we wasted the detergent,” he said.

“Why?”

“Smell this.” He held up one of his shirts to Tsukishima’s nose.

He cringed. “Cinnamon?”

“I didn’t read the label, so I’m guessing I bought cinnamon detergent.”

“Who even sells that sort of thing?”

“I have no idea. Anyhow, let’s go. I’m really tired.”

Tsukishima stopped him knowingly. “Nice try, wise guy,” he chirped. “You and I are cleaning up this mess.”

***

When Bokuto invited them to a night party at Akaashi’s house, they cringed and dreaded going. They’d spent the entire Saturday as sloths, so they weren’t about to get up and actually _do something._ Especially if it was going to a drinking party with a crazy person (i.e. Bokuto). However Bokuto, determined, nagged them with phone calls until they gave in. And eventually, at around seven, they gave in.

Even though Bokuto’s home remained in Tokyo, he discarded the distance and the travel fees if it was to see his friends (Kuroo, Tsukki and the rest). Therefore he hoped they would feel the same way, about going to Akaashi’s place in Tokyo. Now Kuroo, being the smart man that he was, had rented a car for a while. He used the car to travel there, with Tsukishima in the passenger seat, Suga and Ushijima in the back.

“Koutarou is going to love me when he sees this car,” he said confidently.

But Bokuto seemed anything _except_ loving when he saw the car. “You betrayed me!” he cried. “Keiji! My best bro cheated on me with a _car_!”

Akaashi was still inside, but he heard the noise and came out only to say, “That’s nice, Kou-san.”

“Don’t ‘Kou-san’ me!” He turned to Kuroo. “I spend so much money and time for you—and you repay me by bring that devil over here?”

As Kuroo and Bokuto began arguing, Tsukishima leaned over to Suga and asked what the problem was. “Why does he hate cars?”

“Hm? Oh, his driver’s test was a disaster,” he whispered. “He gave the proctor and himself some fractured bones.”

“I thank God I wasn’t in the back seat,” Ushijima retorted, going inside with Akaashi.

Tsukishima thought the same.

 

The party consisted of the six of them and some of Akaashi’s friendly neighbors. One of them was so tall and so white-haired that Tsukishima first passed him off as a super tall ghost. His name was Lev. There weren’t any other noticeably abnormal characters at the party.

Somewhere along the line, when Tsukishima had a copious amount of alcohol, his eyes hovered over to Bokuto and Akaashi. They were talking about something, though he couldn’t hear the words they said. Suddenly Akaashi, who usually seemed as indifferent as himself, had an expression that could have rivaled the faces of month-old babies. His eyes were wide and his mouth agape, his ears and face turning pink. His hair almost flew up along with his legs. He jumped into Bokuto’s arms. “Of course. I love you,” Tsukishima could hear him say. Bokuto smiled and hugged him tighter.

Kuroo, who was beside him, had also watched the scene. “He asked him if they could move in together. They’d been talking about it for a while now. I guess Koutarou finally stepped up to the plate,” he explained.

“That kind of face . . . because they’re moving in together?”

“Yup. That kind of face.”

In more ways than one, Tsukishima was jealous. He was jealous of Akaashi’s ability to make those kinds of faces out of nowhere, and that he could do so because of the man he loved. He envied that. He longed for what they had, because he had been so deprived of love, in general, as a child. Why had it taken him so long to realize it? Just because relationships weren’t perfect, or solid for forever, it didn’t mean that they weren’t worth wanting. Or being excited for. Or fighting for. It meant that’s what a relationship was about.

He wondered, for the rest of the party, if he could have that sort of relationship with Kuroo. _Ha. Probably not._

***

It was around midnight when it happened. When everything changed for the better, and for the worse all in one moment. When nothing for them could ever be as it was before. They’d been talking about sandwiches, and what other kinds of sandwiches Kuroo would want to eat. He listed them: an egg salad sandwich, a pastrami sandwich, and a grilled cheese. Tsukishima kept those ideas in mind for the future.

“I really love your sandwiches,” Kuroo complimented. “You should be a chef instead of a florist.”

He snickered. “What, because I can make sandwiches?”

“I mean it!”

“Yeah, yeah.”

When things between them turned silent and slow, they stole glances at each other while the other wasn’t looking. Kuroo took his chance. For better or for worse. “So, uh, Tsukki.”

“What?”

“I like you.”

He knew he heard his words correctly. But he figured he was dreaming. He had to have been dreaming. He just stared at Kuroo, who was sitting expectantly. How could he say that so easily? Was he serious? After all they’ve been through, how could he not be serious? He even hinted at the fact a while back. Somehow, though, it felt too good to be true. It really felt like a dream. A dream he couldn’t wake up from. Even if this was reality, and the confession was quite real, he wouldn’t say anything precisely because it would be real. Words, for him, couldn’t come out that easily. Words, for him, couldn’t easily be trusted. It was too many words that divorced his parents and destroyed his family.

Truthfully, a part of him wanted to hug Kuroo and tell him he felt the same way. He wanted them to be together. But nothing happened, because the other part of him felt they always had a bearably close yet distant relationship. Because of that, something was stopping him. He had doubt, at the bottom of his heart, so he couldn’t say any words or do any actions.

Now, Kuroo, who had been sitting silently through Tsukishima’s ten-minute monologue, decided to end the matter. He silently laughed, “Alright, Tsukki. I see you’re frozen in place and not answering, so I’m going to make this easier for you. Forget what I said. It was a joke.” He laughed again, and his tone was light enough for Tsukishima to see that he was in fact joking.

“Oh, really?” he laughed nervously.

“Really! I was just curious to see how you’d react, but you _didn’t_ react! I’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable.”

Now this, this sounded more like reality. So he wasn’t dreaming after all. “I see. Well, good night. I’m going to bed.”

“Good night.”

As Tsukishima walked past Kuroo, he could feel his eyes burn with water. Of course, that’s how it was. A joke. A rather cruel joke, at that. But he already knew Kuroo was an idiot. He felt his tears run down his face as streams. He slammed his bedroom door shut and jumped into his bed, stuffing his face in the pillow. He recalled the time in the laundromat, when he said to Kuroo that his jokes could never hurt him. Now, he took that back. Completely.


	9. Spring Hurricanes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A conversation, lots of messages, nighttime drawings, and a hurricane.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Even I hate myself for writing the ending of this chapter...because it's Valentine's Day and I'm giving you all such pain...  
> I cry for my sons ;A;

Tsukishima was quite the expert at being mad and _staying_ mad. He would respond to Kuroo with one or two words, and ignore him sometimes. He even went back to calling him “Kuroo.” He would do this until Kuroo got the idea that he figured out his lie, and figured out that he was awfully in love with him. The only way Tsukishima got to this conclusion was by talking to Yamaguchi about it. He’d called him the night after the “confession” and asked him why he couldn’t stop crying.

“Wait, Tsukki. Why are you crying in the first place?”

His voice quivered, “I don’t know. It hurts. It really hurts.”

“What, Tsukki? What’s wrong?”

Tsukishima took a deep breath so that he could coherently speak. “Whenever I think about him, and what he said, it just hurts.”

“Who? Kuroo?”

“Yeah. Last night, he told me he liked me. I was so surprised that I couldn’t find anything to say, and then he told me he was joking. And then I cried.”

“Woah. Wait, he said something like that?”

“Yes, he did.”

“And you cried, because you _didn’t_ want it to be a joke?”

“I guess. But the fact that he would joke about that is—”

“Unreal. Right?”

“Right.”

He heard Yamaguchi pause and sigh through the phone. “So what if it was a lie?”

“If what was a lie?”

“When he said it was a joke. Didn’t Akiteru always say that actions were more reliable than words?”

Tsukishima’s eyes widened at the possibility. Would Kuroo do something so stupid? Probably. “So you’re saying he tells me he likes me, but then says it was a joke, and now that’s a lie?”

“Pretty much. I don’t think your roommate is the type of person to do something like that without a reason.”

“But what reason could he have?”

“That, you have to ask him.” He groaned. Asking him was the last thing he wanted to do. What if Yamaguchi was wrong and he really was joking? “But isn’t it worth the risk? If you really like him.” Sometimes Yamaguchi scared Tsukishima, because he said things like this as if telepathic. He continued, “And I’m not telepathic. I just know you pretty well. Wouldn’t you say so?”

He wouldn’t say so, but he agreed. “. . . Thanks, Yamaguchi.”

“Oh my God. You’re _really_ _in love_ with him, aren’t you?”

“The hell? Why would you say that?”

“Because you thanked me.”

Yamaguchi was right. Love could make a person do some out-of-character things.

***

While doing his finances, Tsukishima realized that he had saved up enough money to rent his own apartment. He thought of the pros and cons of leaving and staying. The only major con he thought of about staying was that he may have to deal with unrequited feelings.

He didn’t realize that Kuroo was hovering over him until he heard him gasp. He turned to him as he backed away in despair. He shook his head and muttered, “I knew this would happen. I tried not to drive you away, but after the way you’ve been acting lately, why didn’t I see it sooner? Oh, God. Now I have to throw a going away party and everything . . .”

He was clearly jumping to conclusions way too fast. Seeing him like this, Tsukishima no longer had any doubt in his mind that he wanted to stay his doomed roommate. He had to find out the truth. Even if his feelings were unrequited, he would feel worse if he just left things as they were. Even without the troublesome feelings, he would want to stay with Kuroo. So, he said, “I’m not leaving.”

Kuroo stopped. “You’re not?”

He smiled. “I’m not. You see, I don’t love living with you. But I don’t think I’ll like living without you.”

Looking relieved, Kuroo held Tsukishima’s shoulders. Tightly. “You sure?”

At first, he wondered why Kuroo was pressing the matter further when he already gave his answer. It didn’t take him long to figure out that Kuroo had experienced the loss of his father and someone important to him leaving, so he’d of course be paranoid.

He said, “I’m sure. We’re roommates.”

Because of this, probably, Kuroo did not stop sending him messages on his phone. Before he would only send him messages when he would be coming home late because of work or because he’d be hanging out with Bokuto. Now, he sent things like:

_Hey. How are you?_

_How’s work?_

_How’s your day?_

_Hi._

_It’s March, so it’s getting warmer now._

He would also send things about himself, like:

_This Sawamura bastard is getting on my nerves again. He’s not “refreshing” at all._

_Because of this damn job, I’m going to bury myself in a hole. Would you help me?_

Tsukishima didn’t have anything in particular against his weird and redundant messages, but when he sent them consecutively was when he freaked out and ignored him. One day during work, when things were pretty busy, Kuroo sent him his usual “Hi” and “How are you.”

Tsukishima replied with: _Not now, Kuroo._

Kuroo: _You know, I wish you’d call me Tetsu again. I got really used to it._

Tsukishima hesitated, but he couldn’t say no. He’d gotten used to the name as well: _Fine._

Kuroo: _Yay!_

He read the message and smiled, but then Kuroo sent a kissing emoji. The moment was ruined. He cringed and threw his phone at the wall, frightening Yachi. _What an idiot,_ he thought as he walked over to pick up his phone. Only the screen was slightly cracked.

 

That night was a night where Kuroo couldn’t sleep. Tsukishima had already been sitting by the table listening to music and sketching. One secret thing he liked to do was draw. He was good at it, too. If he didn’t like the job he had, he would be an artist, maybe even a _mangaka_. But he wasn’t fond of the chaos of the job.

When Kuroo caught him sketching, he turned his sketchbook over and pulled down his headphones. “What are you doing?”

“You know I can’t sleep sometimes. I came to sleep on Sachi. The question is: what are _you_ doing?” he said as he lay down on the sofa. “I didn’t know you could draw. Let me see.”

Tsukishima was adamant about not letting him see it. He held the book close to his body. “No,” he said, “I can’t let you see it.”

Kuroo frowned. “Why not? I want to see,” he insisted.

He shook his head so hard that his glasses nearly fell off his face. His ears and cheeks burned. Even though he was adamant, Kuroo was determined to get his way. He leaped over to Tsukishima and playfully wrestled with him over the sketchbook. He used an especially dirty tactic: tickling. This got the book in his hands easily.

“Don’t look!” Tsukishima growled.

But it was too late. Kuroo was looking, and his face was stone. “This is . . . me?”

He nodded reluctantly. “Don’t say anything. Just give it back, Tetsu.”

“No way! You made me look sexy!” He flipped through the pages and saw a sketch of Bokuto as well. He also drew one with him and Akaashi holding hands. He sketched Ukai Flowers, Yachi, Ukai, Ushijima, Kuroo’s mother, Akiteru and Saeko, Yamaguchi, and even Hinata. They were all done with only pencil, and they were beautiful. “I had no idea you could do something so amazing,” Kuroo stated, “You’re amazing. When did you have the time to do this?”

“My lunch breaks, and when you’re not home,” he admitted. “I see these people all the time, and so I found myself capturing the moments I saw them. So that I wouldn’t forget.”

“But pencil smudges and then disappears.”

“And old paper turns brown. What do I care?”

“Then, you should draw one of us.”

“Us? Just us two?”

“Yeah. Why not?”

Feeling embarrassed, he still complied. “Alright. I’ll do it now. Are you going to sleep or will you watch me?”

“Hmm. How about I make you a snack and some tea. To keep you awake.”

“Okay . . .” He was still pretty angry with Kuroo, but he couldn’t hide the feeling of happiness from showing on his face.

***

These good times lasted for eight months, until everything they’d built together was seemingly destroyed by a hurricane. This hurricane had a name: Kozume Kenma. When he came back, it was April. The cherry blossoms bloomed and the air was warm. Lots of children were outdoors. People in the neighborhood were friendlier as well.

It was early in the morning on a Sunday when he appeared. Having finished breakfast, Kuroo was doing the dishes and Tsukishima was reading. When the bell rang, he answered it. When he saw the short, dark-haired person with golden, cat-like eyes standing in front of him, he knew it was Kenma. He lowered his eyes and felt like an idiot.

“Hi,” Kenma said. “Is Kuro home?”

“Yeah. He’s home. Come inside.” Tsukishima felt like an idiot. He finally understood why he was in disbelief, why he was so surprised and couldn’t say anything when Kuroo confessed. He finally realized just what it was that was holding him back. Or rather, in this case, who it was. The one thing he wanted to ask Kuroo that night is the one thing that would have solved this. He just couldn’t figure it out then. But now that it was glaringly _there_ in front of his eyes, he knew. He knew, and it was suddenly so clear to him. He saw Kuroo watch Kenma enter the house, and he saw the subtle terror in his face.

“Kenma,” he uttered, “what are you doing here?”

“I came to visit.”

Tsukishima closed the door and thought about what he should have asked Kuroo a long time ago. If he’d asked him then, maybe he wouldn’t be feeling this broken. Maybe he wouldn't be feeling so lost.

_Don’t you still love him?_


	10. His Name is Tsukishima

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eavesdropping, running away, a friend, a conversation, and a "finally".

Never in his life has Tsukishima felt so frustrated. Not only were his chances of getting Kuroo slimmer, he had no way of telling him his feelings now. Plus, he had to sit there in silence while he and Kenma reminisced about the old days. However he soon realized that his imagination was a much prettier version of what actually happened.

“The hell? ‘I came to visit?’ We didn’t talk once during the past year and a half, and you come saying you came to visit,” Kuroo hissed.

Kenma, unaffected, sat by the table as if he still lived there. “You know that’s not my fault. I tried to contact you every day. You ignored me over there, so I decided to come over here.”

On that note, both Tsukishima and Kenma gave Kuroo disappointed looks. This, he could understand. Kuroo must have held grudges better than himself. “You shouldn’t have done that,” he said to him flatly.

“You’re on his side now? I thought I raised you better, Tsukki,” Kuroo goaded.

Tsukishima was about to snap something back at him, but Kenma interfered. “Now, stop. I know you guys aren’t this hostile with each other all the time. You couldn’t be roommates if you were.”

“Hostile? How so?” Kuroo asked obliviously. This was sometimes how they would interact with each other normally.

Tsukishima was confused as well. This time, only Kenma gave them a disappointed look. He sighed and pointed to Tsukishima, “You’re upset at him about something.” Then he pointed to Kuroo, “And you are probably still being an idiot. I don’t know what happened, but I’d like it if you made up.”

Tsukishima smiled grimly. This Kenma guy was sharp. “Well, that’s my business,” he said, “so I’d suggest _you_ make up with that guy first,” he told him.

“That’s what I’m here to do.” He turned to Kuroo. “Come, sit. We have to talk.”

 

Although Tsukishima voluntarily left the tense area and went to his room, he couldn’t help but feel curious about what they were discussing. This was especially so because Kenma was the type of guy who was unpredictable. You couldn’t tell what he was going to say or do next. For all he knew, he was there to ask Kuroo if they could get back together. If that were the case, Tsukishima would not know how to fight back.

So, ultimately he sat behind the wall in the hallway, just close enough so that he could hear but just far enough so that they wouldn’t see him. They spoke in low, dismal tones.

“I’m sorry,” Kenma said, “for everything.”

“Listen, Kenma. The only reason I was upset was because you hid it from me. I would have supported you going to America if you’d just _told_ _me_.”

Tsukishima wasn’t convinced. Neither was Kenma. “No, you would still be angry with me. I know you, so I know that you need me.”

Kuroo corrected him, “ _Needed._ ”

“Right. Because of that glasses guy who’s here now, right?”

“His name is Tsukishima.”

“Still, my question is: is he a replacement for me?”

Kuroo paused. Whenever he paused for that long, he was upset. Very upset. “Yes. Is that what you want to hear?”

“Well, I want the truth.”

“No, you want what’s in your favor, right? You . . . you’re still in love with me, aren’t you?”

Without hesitation, Kenma answered, “I am.”

Kuroo slammed the table. “Then why did you leave?!”

“Because I wanted the job. But I also wanted you.” Kenma’s voice turned gentle. “I still want you.”

He clenched his fists. “But, I . . .”

“Are you just going to throw away all those years we had?”

“No matter how hard I try, I can’t throw them away. Even though I hated you.”

“You hated me? If you still hated me, we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now.”

Again, Kuroo paused. “I guess that’s true. My roommate helped me get rid of it.”

“That glasses—”

“Like I said, his name is Tsukishima.”

The both of them didn’t say anything for a few minutes. It seemed like they were trying to find the words to say. “Kuro,” Kenma began, “how do you feel, seeing me right now?”

“I feel a lot of things. Kenma, you will never understand how much I’ve missed you.”

“I know.”

“You will never understand how much I love you.”

This is what scared Tsukishima. This was when he stopped listening entirely, ran to his room, packed some clothes into his tote bag, took some money, and ran to the door.  _I knew it,_ he thought, _I knew he was messing with me. I knew he never had any feelings for me. I knew it, dammit. I knew he still loved him._

Kuroo immediately pulled away from Kenma and ran to him. “What is this? Where are you going?” he panicked.

He turned to him with an ice cold glare. “I’m leaving for a while. Don’t follow me.” As he started to leave, Kuroo took him by the arm and turned him around. He saw his tears and his ashamed, red face. His grip loosened.

Kenma intervened. "Wait, Tsukishima. I want to talk to you. Alone."

"Why should I—"

"Just come."

Tsukishima was pissed. Kenma just arrives out of nowhere, ruins everything, and says he wants to talk? No. This was not happening. He scoffed and slammed the door as he left. Kuroo was speechless.

***

Going to Tokyo to see Yamaguchi was worth it. Anything to get away from him. When he appeared at his front door, it was raining outside. The rain was a perfect example of how he was feeling inside. Dark, cold, always falling and colliding with the ground.

“Woah! Tsukki, what’s wrong?”

“Just let me in. I’ll explain when I’m dry.”

And so Yamaguchi let him in, he took a shower and changed his clothes. His bath towel smelled like cinnamon, and he almost cried into it as he remembered the cinnamon smelling laundry detergent and Kuroo’s hand. After drying, he went into the living area and sat on the sofa. Yamaguchi came over to him with tea and, conveniently enough, strawberry shortcake. He sat beside him and without letting him take a sip or a bite, he stroked his blonde hair and embraced him very tightly.

“Yamaguchi, what are you doing?”

“You’re crying. Did you realize that?”

“No, but . . . you’re hurting me,” he said, and Yamaguchi let go of him.

“Sorry, Tsukki.”

“Don’t apologize.”

“What would you have done if I wasn’t home?”

“Well, I guess I would have stayed in the rain until you came home. But you never have anything on Sundays.”

“Not never! I’ve had a date before!”

Tsukishima laughed weakly, “ _A_ date.” Yamaguchi would have protested if his best friend didn’t look so fragile and disconnected. He simply smiled and told him to eat the cake. Eventually, Tsukishima explained to him just what happened and why he left. He first explained that he hadn’t confessed his feelings to Kuroo out of frustration about the fact that he might have lied that night. He told him about how they held hands, and about how back at the wedding he comforted him. He told him that his heart tightened whenever he thought of him now, and if that was love, he did not want to be in love with him.

“But, Tsukki, after the hard part, I think it’s worth it. I’m sure you feel the same.” And he did. He did think it was worth it, until Kenma showed up at their house. “Kenma? His old lover?”

“His old roommate, too. He came and they talked, and Tetsu said he loves him.”

“Hold on. What exactly did he say?”

“It was, ‘You will never understand how much I love you.’ That’s what he said.”

Yamaguchi pondered on the thought. “Hmm. I don’t think so,” he concluded.

“Ha? What do you mean? That’s what he sai—” He stopped himself, coming to a realization. “Oh, _shit_. No way.”

“See? I don’t think that’s what he _meant_. He might have meant it in a different way. And since you ran off, you didn’t hear what else he might have said."

Tsukishima ran his hands through his frizzled hair. “I’m so stupid.” The one time (of many) Akiteru’s words about love are important, he forgets them and jumps to conclusions.

“You’re not stupid. You were just so eager to be right, I guess, that you jumped to the conclusion that Kuroo didn’t love you." Yamaguchi paused. "Why, so that you could give up on him?”

“Well, yeah. I don’t like the pain,” Tsukishima said, wiping his wet eyes with his sleeve.  _Dammit, does he love me or not?_

“If you want someone, though, it’s a package deal.” Yamaguchi patted his head. “Since it seems like you need space from him, you can stay here for as long as you need.”

“Yamaguchi.”

“What?”

Frowning, he mumbled, “I . . . like you. As a friend, obviously.” The words were definitely harder to say than it seemed. But he felt like he had to say them; he had to let Yamaguchi know. It was also good practice for when he would confront Kuroo and finally tell him.

Yamaguchi himself almost cried. “This is the first time you said that to me! When I meet Kuroo-san, I have to thank him—”

“Shut up,” he said, with subtle affection. “You talk too much.”

 

After almost a week, Tsukishima felt too comfortable in Yamaguchi’s home to leave. He also wasn’t ready to face Kuroo. On Saturday, after going to the convenience store for snacks, he came home to an excited Yamaguchi. He was holding his phone and shaking. “He said he’s coming for you!” he exclaimed.

Tsukishima froze. This was the one thing he did not want to happen. “What? How did he call you?”

“You left your phone at your place, and he looked through your contacts. He said, ‘His password was too easy.’ Then he told me to tell you this, word for word: ‘Stay there. I’m coming for you.’ So I gave him my address,” he explained. “I can see why you fell for him.”

“No! I have to leave. I don’t want to see him.” He ran to get his things, but Yamaguchi stopped him.

“If you keep running away, you’re never going to get him.”

“But—”

“But what? He’s coming for you _._ Not for me, not for Kenma. For _you._ If you hate what your parents did to you so much, I suggest you stop acting like them. Why are you fighting yourself?” And then there were times like these, when his “support” turned into a lecture. What did he know, when he probably hadn’t experienced love himself? “I know what love is,” he continued, once again reading Tsukishima’s mind. “I know.”

Tsukishima waited for hours impatiently, looking out the window. He watched it when it rained a few hours ago. Paranoid, he began pacing around the house. It was around ten when the doorbell rang and Yamaguchi answered it. “Tsukki, someone’s here! But it's not him!” he shouted. Immediately, he went to see who it was, and it was Kenma.

"Sorry to intrude," he said to Yamaguchi.

"Why are you here?" Tsukishima snapped, "Where's Tetsu?"

Kenma allowed himself inside and said, "He's on his way. But I came here first. We should talk."

"About what?"

"You know what." They went into the living room and sat by the table. Yamaguchi stood in the kitchen, listening secretively. "About him. I know you love him. It was obvious since when I first met you."

"Well, don't make it sound like we've been buddies for ages."

"Anyway, usually I would call Kuro the idiot in these kinds of situations, but you're the idiot right now."

Tsukishima glared at him. "Excuse me?"

"I'm not in love with him."

He almost choked on air. "What?"

"You heard me. All that stuff I said before was to provoke you."

"You knew I was listening?" This Kenma was a really sly bastard.

"Yeah. But it didn't work, I see. I wanted . . . to cut open a way for you to be with him. Because you guys are slow. I can tell all this by just looking at you."

"Why would you want to do something like that? Help your ex be with a new guy?" Tsukishima couldn't understand it for the life of him. What, exactly, motivated Kenma to play the villain in all of this? Why would he go so far?

Kenma looked him with a placid face, but his eyes said everything that needed to be said. They were determined, fighting eyes that have been through everything the world's thrown at them. Maybe Tsukishima completely misunderstood him. Maybe he never understood him to begin with. He said, "I came back to see how he was doing. Then I saw you, and I thought,  _'Oh, maybe he's fine. Maybe he really doesn't need me anymore'._ But I was glad to hear that he loves me, even as a friend. With whatever that may come, Kuro is my best friend. I need him to be happy. And I think he's happy with you."

In that moment, Tsukishima felt for Kenma. He felt something, but he didn't know what it was. It wasn't pity, or guilt. He somehow just felt sad. Kenma was a good guy. A really good guy. When he'd first heard of him and what happened between him and Kuroo, he was angry. Now that anger was gone. He wondered why Kenma couldn't have Kuroo after all, and remembered something Akiteru told him about their parents' divorce.  _"I guess the heart can_ _change,"_ he said, _"maybe that person you're 'sure of' isn't the person you'll be sure of in the next few years. Or ten. But would that stop you? I know it doesn't stop me."_

 

After Kenma left him with the parting words of, "Go get him," once again, Tsukishima waited impatiently for Kuroo's arrival. When the doorbell rang, he ran to it and opened it carefully, as if the door would break if he pulled any harder. Slowly, he came out into Kuroo’s line of vision. They looked at each other and exchanged soft glances. They had similar appearances. Their hair, tousled, and their shirts were only buttoned halfway. They had both been going crazy over the past week.

“Hey,” Kuroo casually said.

“Hi.”

“You ready?”

“Yeah.”

They were silent walking to Kuroo’s car rental. This time the car was a forest green color. It wasn’t until they reached the car that Tsukishima spoke. “You really weren’t joking, were you?”

Kuroo faced him seriously. “That night, I wasn’t joking. I wasn’t joking with that kiss, either. I know I’m a tease, and I’m not so trustworthy, but I would never intentionally lie. Especially to you.”

“Then, why?”

“I thought you were taking so long to respond because you honestly didn’t feel the same way. Even though I had the slightest belief that you did. But when I saw your face as you left that day, I knew the truth.”

“Well, I didn’t say anything because I thought I was dreaming and I was too scared to find out.”

It even sounded ridiculous to Tsukishima’s ears. Kuroo laughed. “Seriously?”

“And I was afraid of Kenma.”

His smile disappeared. “About that, why did you run off?”

“I ran off because I heard you say you love him. But I know you meant it as a friend.”

As if the revelations so far were mediocre, Kuroo’s eyes almost popped right out of his head. “You were listening? That’s why you made a face like that? My God, Tsukki, you should have listened to the rest. I followed with ‘but I love someone else’.”

“But you love someone else?” Tsukishima repeated. He wanted to hear the words and accept them.

This was when Kuroo took his hands and pulled him closer. Above them was a bright full moon. The bright lights of the stores shone behind them. The ground and air was still wet from the earlier rain. There were hardly any sounds of cars or trucks driving by. Kuroo said, “Yeah. I told him: ‘But I’m in love with someone else. And his name is Tsukishima’.”

At this point, Tsukishima was near to tears and laughing. He’d never been so expressive in his life before. But that was okay. It was more than okay, since it was because of the person he loved. He reached out and took Kuroo into his arms. “Finally,” he breathed, “finally.”

Facing each other, there was no doubt. There was no hesitation. It made the kiss all the more special.

In the car, Kuroo was thinking. He asked, “Should I still ask you out now? You’re pretty slow, so I need you to get the picture.”

“Wow, you’re even this mean to the guy you like? I don’t know how Kenma survived. I’ll have to ask him.” After seeing the guilt in Kuroo’s face, Tsukishima thought about something himself. “How different is our relationship going to be now?”

Kuroo squinted at him dubiously. “You haven’t even said what I want to hear yet.”

“You mean those three annoying words?”

“They’re not annoying. You seemed pretty happy when I said them a few minutes ago.”

“You didn’t say them consecutively.”

“Tsukki! Are you gonna be like this the whole ride back?” Kuroo turned to him and stopped, not because he was driving, but because he was making a really cute face. “I’m glad you can you can make faces like that, too. I wouldn’t want to see you crying all the time.”

Tsukishima didn’t hear him, since he had put his headphones on and was listening to music. Kuroo seemed glad that he didn’t hear. “Oh, wait a minute. Tetsu, do you have my phone?” he asked him, pulling down his headphones.

“Yeah, actually.” He pulled it out. “Here.” He noticed Tsukishima was making a lot of finger movements and was curious as to what he was doing.

“I’m changing my passcode,” he stated bluntly.

“No! It was all ones before! It was so easy to figure out.”

“That’s _why_ I’m changing it.”

“If you’re that insistent on it, then don’t make it the year of your birth, either. I know that, too.” He stopped, clicked his tongue and muttered some curse words. He started pressing more buttons. Kuroo laughed.

Well into their drive back home, Tsukishima took out a bag of gummy bears. He’d saved it for the trip. Kuroo was driving bearably fast, as he felt the road bumps. The moon was still there, above them, not falling down until the sun told it to. He looked at the trees outside and sighed, not at the trees, but in relief of everything that’s happened so far. He met Kuroo, he didn’t really like him, but it didn’t take him long to get used to him. Without knowing it, he grew close to him and vice versa. If not for Akiteru and Yamaguchi, and Kenma, he would still be running from the fact that he loved him.

As he thought about this and ate the gummies, he looked at Kuroo. He looked good while driving. “Hey,” he said showing him the bag of gummy bears, “I don’t want the green ones. Do you?”

“Sure, but I’m driving. You can feed them to me.”

The Tsukishima eight months ago would probably dropkick you if you said that to him, even if you were Kuroo. He took a few gummies and placed them in Kuroo’s mouth. Unexpectedly, he licked Tsukishima’s fingers.

“W-what was that?” he stammered, yanking back his hand.

“You’re in a relationship with me now. There’s no turning back,” he replied, smirking. At times Tsukishima thought this smirk was cute. Now, however, he thought no such thing. If anything, he thought the opposite.


	11. Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A farewell, a smile, and a trip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy, my lovelies!

Sending Kenma off back to America about a week later was a lot less tense than when he first arrived. The three of them formed an unlikely bond during this time, even though it was mainly Tsukishima and Kenma making fun of Kuroo. Over the course of that week, though, Tsukishima learned that Kenma may have lied. He was putting up a front so as to not worry him, but he clearly still loved him. It was an unspoken truth between the three of them.

At the airport, which smelled like the saltwater of goodbyes and the freshness of new adventures, Kenma stood by the escalator in front of Kuroo and Tsukishima. He looked at them and subtly smiled. “You’re happy I’m leaving now, aren’t you?”

“Not quite, although seeing you leave feels a lot better than you disappearing without a goodbye,” Kuroo said.

“I . . . see.” Kenma lowered his head. Tsukishima could tell he was crying, even though his hair covered his face. He nudged Kuroo as if to say, _Go and comfort him._

He stepped forward and gave him a hug, his large body covering Kenma’s smaller self. He cried harder and pulled on Kuroo’s jacket. “I’m sorry,” Kuroo breathed, “I’m sorry I was such an asshole. I’m sorry we can’t be together. I’ll always love you. Please remember that.”

Kenma’s tear-filled cry even resonated within Tsukishima. “I will.”

“You better come and visit more often. To make up for lost time,” he added.

Again, “I will.” Kuroo gently kissed Kenma on the cheek. Turning to Tsukishima, he continued, “Kei, if this idiot makes you cry, call me. I’ll fly over.”

“Ah,” he replied, “it’s too late, Ken-san.”

Kenma glared at Kuroo, who was baffled and offended. He shouted, “First name basis already? And you’re taking _his_ side?”

Kenma walked off with his last parting words: “Be happy.” As he left, Tsukishima remembered something he said to him the other day. He said,  _He’s one of the few people who ever understood me. But seeing him with you is strange. When I asked him again, he told me that you weren’t my replacement. He said that you’re you, and I’m me. As he talked about you, he smiled. I like that smile. Kei, I’m glad you were there for him when I wasn’t._

Kuroo stopped him in his thoughts as he held out his hand. “Let’s go.” Tsukishima firmly took his hand and they headed home.

***

With the arrival of spring, Tsukishima got busier with preparing the new selections of flowers. During his lunch break, he got a visit from Kuroo. “Hey,” greeted. As he looked closer, he realized his visitor was wearing his green hoodie. His _favorite_ green hoodie.

“Why are you wearing my sweater?” he wanted to ask, but he didn’t feel like anything really needed to be said. Besides, it looked good on him.

“Were you thinking about me before I got here?” he asked with a smug grin.

“No, actually. It’s kind of busy,” Tsukishima responded flatly. Kuroo grew silent, so he continued, “Are you sulking?”

“Well, I’m not ten.”

“No, you’re not. Come over here.” He leaned over the counter and rested his elbows on it with his arms up straight and hands in the air. Kuroo imitated his position and Tsukishima clasped their hands together, interlocking their fingers. “Are you happier now?”

“Maybe,” said Kuroo, his ears turning pink. He looked at Tsukishima in his eyes and got closer and closer until their lips touched. It was a tender moment, until someone else caught them in the act. It wasn’t Ukai, or Yachi, but Hinata.

“OOH!” he exclaimed. “I knew it!”

“Knew what?” Kuroo said, seemingly disappointed that their moment was ruined.

“That you were together. I envy you guys.”

“You shouldn’t really,” Tsukishima clarified, “because this guy was not easy to catch. His phobia, his ex . . .”

“Hey! I’m not a fish,” Kuroo complained.

Just then, a hand set itself on top of Hinata’s head. The hand belonged to Bokuto. “Hey, hey, hey! Hinata, Kuroo, Tsukki.” _Why is it getting crowded with more people I don’t really want to see?_ Tsukishima thought.

“Yo, Koutarou,” Kuroo chirped. “What are you doing here? Coming down here so often is a waste of money.”

“I agree. Don’t leave Akaashi-san behind,” Tsukishima deadpanned.

“We came _together,_ first of all. Keiji went to buy stuff.” Bokuto suddenly went up to Kuroo and hugged him. “Bro. I’m so happy for you.”

“Happy? What did I do?”

“You and Tsukki, obviously. Kenma told me about it.”

“He did?”

“Yeah. So I took the liberty of coming down here and congratulating you.”

Tsukishima sighed, “It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Yeah, it is,” Hinata and Bokuto said in unison. They looked at each other then continued, “You two are the most unlikely pair.”

***

By the time summer was halfway over, they were done. Finished. They were so through with the constant interruptions in their private life that they decided to escape everyone and take a trip. After much debate, they decided to take a driving trip to an _onsen._ Kuroo rented a gorgeous red car and they packed their things to leave. As he put the bags in the trunk, he said, “You don’t know how glad I am that we’re doing this.”

“No, I do,” Tsukishima adamantly replied. “Hinata came by almost every day just to ask me how we were doing.”

“Is he even making any progress with that v-shaped bastard?” he asked as he slammed the trunk and headed to the driver’s seat.

“I don’t think so. How long are you going to continue calling him that?”

“Until he gets a different hairstyle.” As Kuroo started the car, he leaned over and looked at Tsukishima. “Is your seatbelt on?”

“Oh. Sorry.” He buckled himself in. “Let’s go.” Not long into their drive, however, he’d been gazing at Kuroo’s posture and figure while driving. He grew uncomfortable. Actually, it wasn’t so much as him feeling unsettled than it was the urge to touch him.

“Hey. Why are you looking at me like that? Like you want to kill me. Don’t tell me you don’t want to go on a trip?” Kuroo asked, frowning.

Tsukishima said what was on his mind: “Why are you like that?”

“Like what?”

He mumbled, “Like . . . good-looking.”

Because Kuroo was taken by surprise, the car swerved a bit. As he drove back on track, he said, “If you think I’m good-looking then don’t look at me like you want me to die.”

“Well, I don’t want you to die. What kind of face should I make?”

“Smile, for starters.”

Tsukishima tried to do so, and Kuroo laughed. “Never mind. You’ve done it before, so I know how you smile.”

“How do I smile?”

“Hmm. Maybe you smile the way a child smiles?”

Confused, he said, “Um . . . is that a compliment?”

“Kind of.” Now Kuroo changed the subject to himself, “So what about me? How do I smile?”

 _Are we really having this conversation?_ Tsukishima said to himself, although this was the reality. He thought about it. He thought about Kuroo’s scheming smile, his smirk, his angry smile, and his genuine smile. Out of these, he liked the last one, however it was rare. He said, “I don’t know. You have lots of them.”

This was one of those rare moments. Kuroo smiled from ear to ear, leaving Tsukishima helpless. “Do I?”

“Yeah. Just keep driving, okay?”

When they arrived, they saw that it was a much more run-down place than the picture on the internet implied. Kuroo was disturbed by this, but Tsukishima didn’t really care. There was one person at the front desk: young woman with long dark brown hair with short bangs and maroon eyes. “Welcome,” she said with a bright smile. “I know this place looks a bit different from the advertisement, but thank you for coming.”

“Actually, why is that? What happened here?” Kuroo asked roughly. It probably wasn’t his intention, but he frightened the woman.

Noticing this, Tsukishima pinched his side; he jumped and screeched in pain. He said, “Sorry about his rudeness. If you don’t want to tell us, you don’t have to.”

The woman looked down at the desk. “Well . . . about that . . .”

Suddenly, an egregiously familiar voice boomed from the curtains behind the front desk. It said, “Michimiya! What’s the ruckus?” Kuroo smiled the smile where he was neither happy nor sad, but irritated. Tsukishima noticed it once in a while whenever he got into a heated argument with Bokuto (over something trivial, usually). It was a smile he wanted to avoid.

Appearing before them was a tall, well-built man who seemed to be in his late-twenties. When he saw them, he smiled, but looming over him was a sinister aura. “What are _you_ doing here?”

He was clearly talking to Kuroo, who replied, “I could ask the same of you, Sawamura.”

Tsukishima figured out that this man was Sawamura Daichi. And since he seemed to work at the _onsen_ , he worried about what would happen during the next few days. “Why don’t you take us to our room?” he said, trying to break the ice.

Daichi complied bitterly. As they walked to the room, Tsukishima noticed that the walls and the floorboard weren’t in the best shape. Daichi asked them, “What brings you two to a place like this anyway?”

“We thought it was nicer than this,” Kuroo grumbled.

“But,” Tsukishima defended, “it’s okay like this. We can stay here.”

Daichi glanced back at him with a sincere smile. “Glad to hear it.” When they reached their room, Kuroo was on the verge of starting an argument with Daichi. Tsukishima stopped him, though. Before leaving, Daichi said that dinner would be at six.

When they were finally alone, Kuroo snapped at Tsukishima. “Why are we staying here? With that guy?”

He pulled out a book. “Unlike you, I don’t want to be rude.”

“Being rude is a part of your personality!”

“Even I have boundaries, Tetsu. Don’t you?” He closed his book and went to talk to Daichi and Michimiya. They were in the kitchen, talking and laughing. When they noticed him, they grew serious.

“Is something wrong?” Michimiya asked.

“Well, I came to apologize. That guy was being inconsiderate earlier.”

Daichi laughed. “Isn’t that the way he is? I’m surprised you’re apologizing _for_ him.”

“He’s not the type to apologize easily. Especially if it’s to someone he dislikes.”

“You sound like you know him well.”

“I think I do.”

Again, Daichi laughed. “You’re an interesting guy. What’s your name?”

“Tsukishima.”

“Well, Tsukishima, how about we eat dinner together?”

“Just us four? What about the other residents?”

Looking downcast, he said, “You two are the only ones.”

 

Dinner arrived, and there was a large meal. Kuroo was still stubbornly frustrated, but as soon as he took a bite of the food, he brightened. “Damn, Sawamura, I don’t like you but I like your food! It’s not as good as Tsukki’s, though.”

“I helped! If it were Daichi alone, everything would burn,” Michimiya said.

“Sounds like you actually suck,” Kuroo spat.

“Sounds like you’re still a brat,” Daichi fired back.

Tsukishima laid down the law. He loudly slammed his chopsticks on the table. “Tetsu,” was all he had to say.

“Sorry,” he said. It would seem that the only person he’d apologize to so quickly was Tsukishima.

Michimiya pouted, “Seriously, you two are nearly thirty! It’s time to start acting like it.”

The silence that came was more awkward than they’d hoped. Once again, Tsukishima broke the ice. “Anyway, what exactly happened to this place?”

Daichi and Michimiya exchanged glances. He first explained that the inn was owned by Michimiya’s family and that he was just there to help her. She said, “A few years ago, we were robbed. We had to pay a debt we didn’t have. But we couldn’t prove we were clean. Everything was taken. We had to start from zero. My dad . . . ran away. Every month, we’d get a few visitors. We got some money. But the inn’s condition got worse. So there you have it. That’s what happened.”

Kuroo looked down at his bowl of rice. “Michimiya. If it makes you feel any better, people should know there’s really good food here.”

She smiled. “Thank you.”

 

The hot bath was really comforting and soothing. But for some reason, Tsukishima and Kuroo were meters apart from each other. “What are you doing? Come over here, Tsukki!” Kuroo shouted.

“No,” Tsukishima replied instantly. “I’m afraid you’re going to do something.”

He scoffed and begun to go over to him. “You can see right through me this time.”

“So I was right.”

“Can I at least kiss you?” Tsukishima nodded, and as their bodies grew closer, Kuroo pressed his lips against his. Suddenly, Tsukishima’s hands pushed him away. “Why did you—”

“Sorry. Never mind, I can’t. Not now.”

Kuroo noticed he was red from ear to ear. He figured it out and smirked. “Did I just turn you on? I mean, we _are_ both naked . . .”

Quiet, Tsukishima started to leave the bath. “I’m going to the bathroom.”

“You sure you don’t need help?”

“I’m sure!” he fired.

Later that night, when they were getting ready to sleep, they could not figure out if they wanted the _futon_ to be together or apart. Tsukishima was for them being apart, and Kuroo was for them being together. “Let’s settle this over rock, paper, scissors,” he said with a gleam in his eye. Tsukishima agreed, but he underestimated Kuroo’s abilities. “Yes! I win,” he chimed.

Neither of them could fall asleep. Even though he came up with the idea, their closeness made Kuroo uneasy. After what felt like an hour, he asked Tsukishima if he was awake.

“Yeah. Thanks to _someone_ , I can’t fall asleep.” Their backs were toward each other, but Tsukishima turned around and faced Kuroo’s back. Not long after, Kuroo did the same, and they were facing one another.

“Am I too close?” Kuroo asked, ready to turn back around.

“No,” Tsukishima stopped him. “Stay.” They just stared, almost in awe of how close they were, until he spoke again. “Why do you hate Sawamura so much?”

“I . . . don’t _hate_ him, hate him. I just can’t get along well with his type.”

“But what about me? And we’re _dating._ ”

“You, you’re different. But we didn’t get along at first, either. You were so aloof and distant.”

“If I was aloof and distant, you were cynical and creepy.”

“Ouch.”

Tsukishima laughed. “What about you and Bokuto?”

“Well, he’s been my best friend since forever. I don’t know what I’d do without him sometimes. We didn’t get along right away either, but a lot of the neighborhood kids gave him trouble because he looked like an owl. I fought for him. Together, we fought a lot of hard battles. Kenma would always try to avoid the fighting.”

 “That’s good. I’m glad you have a memory like that.”

“Why?”

“Just because.”

“Then, what about you? Do you have any fun memories?”

“Hmm. I remember practicing karate with my brother. I never beat him though.”

“See? You did have some fun!”

Tsukishima frowned. “I never said I didn’t.”

“But you never said you did, either.” Kuroo took this silent opportunity to plant a few kisses on Tsukishima’s lips and neck. However yet again he was stopped.

“Stop it already. It’s not happening.”

“Never?”

“Well, not _never_ , but not now, okay? Don’t get upset.”

Instead of being upset, Kuroo was the exact opposite. He was glad to know that it would happen someday. “It’s fine! I’ll wait.”

Tsukishima noticed specks of light on the walls. He turned to the window and saw stars.  They looked like someone shook sugar over the sky. He saw so many stars, some dull, some glaringly bright. Some tiny, some giant. He tapped Kuroo so that he would look at the scene as well. “Have you ever seen this many stars?” he asked him.

“Not in Tokyo,” he answered. “There are lights from buildings and streetlamps over there, and they make the stars invisible.” He was right. Stars could only be seen when the sky was dark.

Amazed, Tsukishima sat in front of the window. Kuroo followed. They sat and watched the night sky until Kuroo fell asleep on Tsukishima’s lap.

***

They left the next day, because they had their respective jobs and they also didn’t have enough money to stay longer. They departed after dinner, when the sunset arrived. Kuroo and Daichi said “goodbye, I don’t want to see you again” with their reluctant and stiff handshake. Michimiya said to Kuroo and Tsukishima, “I hope you can come again.”

In the warm car, with the sky turning blue and dark and Kuroo driving steadily, Tsukishima started to feel sleepy. As he dozed off, Kuroo pulled out his cat blanket (which helped him sleep) from the back seat and covered him with it.

“Sweet dreams,” he whispered.


	12. Dinosaurs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A life, a pair of sneakers, and a memorable confession.

Autumn came as swiftly as summer left. It’s nearly been a year since Akiteru’s marriage, meaning that Tsukishima’s birthday was even closer. However, he had no interest in it; not after the conversation he and his brother had the week before his birthday. It started with Tsukishima asking him how his marriage was going.

“Oh, us? We’re really good. Well, normal, actually. Sometimes she still treats me like Ryuu,” he answered, scratching his head. “But we’re . . . thinking about a baby.” This was when Tsukishima dropped ever other random thought in his head and focused on the word: _“baby”_. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Baby? It was way too soon. Who was he to talk, since he probably knew less than them, but still. Akiteru continued, “I know what you’re thinking. That it’s too soon. But Saeko had to take care of Ryuu as a child, and I had to take care of you. I think we’d know what we’re doing. Besides, it’s not like Saeko and I can’t handle it.”

He made a compelling argument. Thus, he realized that it was more that he wasn’t ready to be an uncle than Akiteru to be a father. He gave him and his future child his blessings. A life was something much larger than it seemed. It was something that had to be nurtured and watched over. But Akiteru could do it. Tsukishima believed he could. Somehow, his chest felt heavy. He had something else to say to his brother, but he didn’t know how to say it.

“Nii-san,” he began, “There’s something you should know.”

“What is it?”

The words weren’t going to easily roll off his tongue, unlike every sarcastic remark he would make. But he figured that it would be over once he just said it. “Do you remember Kuroo Tetsurou?”

“Your roommate? That tall guy with the weird shaped hair?”

“Yeah, well, he and I . . . are . . .”

“Dating?” Akiteru finished the sentence for him. He was glad he didn’t have to spell it out for him, but at the same time he couldn’t believe he figured it out so easily. He must have made an uncomfortable expression, since Akiteru continued, “No, believe me, I’m surprised. It’s just, where else could you have gone with that sentence?”

“But . . .”

“How much do you like him?” he asked.

Tsukishima couldn’t answer right away. It wasn’t that he didn’t know, but he didn’t know how to describe it. It was a mystery. He thought about it and answered, “I can’t put it into words very well, but it’s a lot.” He felt his ears and face burn.

Akiteru laughed. “Wow! I don’t think I’ve ever seen you make that kind of face before!”

“Hey. Are you mocking me?”

“Nonono. Of course not. I’m cheering for you.”

With the matter seemingly taken care of, Tsukishima went back to worrying about his brother’s ambition to have a child. He didn’t like babies or children, and they probably didn’t like him. However, when he relayed the news to Kuroo, what was said was the opposite. “Cool! That baby’s gonna love you,” he said.

“What makes you say that?”

“For starters, you’re hilarious.”

“No, I’m not. I don’t even try.” Instead he was straightforward and sarcastic.

Kuroo grinned confidently. “Exactly.”

“What else?”

“It’s going to love your glasses.” He pulled them off of Tsukishima’s face and put them on himself. “These are nice, but they make my vision go crazy.”

Tsukishima was defeated. Somehow Kuroo could inadvertently compliment him and make him feel a lot better about everything. And he couldn’t even see.

He then brought the matter to work. Ukai, his boss, gave him an answer he expected: “He can do whatever he wants. But in the end, once that baby’s grown up, he’s going to wish it was a baby again.” He went to Yachi next, and she started on how much she liked babies.

“It’s so fun to care for them. You name them, give them a cute nickname . . . watch their first steps, hear their first word, and teach them things. Isn’t that amazing?”

Tsukishima thought that, in a way, it was. He did want his brother to be a father. He did think that a life, for the most part, was an amazing thing.

***

For his birthday, Tsukishima found something he wanted. It was a rather expensive, but beautiful pair of jogging sneakers. It was very much like him to want sneakers. However, when he told Kuroo, his only dream was shattered into pieces. They’d recently joined their bank accounts, and decided that they were “living together” instead of being just “roommates.” Even though they had more money together than separately, the sneakers would put them back to square one.

Therefore, Kuroo said harshly, “No. We can’t. Besides, sneakers like that always have a catch.” Tsukishima did not object or fire back as he normally would have. He just looked down at the floor and walked away. For the rest of that day, the day before his birthday, he silently seethed and gave Kuroo the silent treatment. It may have been childish, but nothing changed the fact that he wanted those sneakers.

Finally, that night, Kuroo gave in. Secretly, he ordered the sneakers online for overnight shipping. When they arrived the next afternoon, Tsukishima was at work, probably receiving thousands of “happy birthday” messages. Turning twenty-six was hardly anything as special, just like turning twenty-five. But this year, this time, he was with his boyfriend. When he came home, and saw the sneakers, he immediately tried them on. He ran around the house to find Kuroo, who was napping in his bed. As a thank you and everything else that came along with it, he gave him a good kiss (after “practicing” with Kuroo, he’d gotten better at it).

The next day was absolute hell. Tsukishima’s feet have never been in so much pain. He regretted everything; finding them, asking Kuroo, and spending the money. The sneakers were turning his feet into dust. He hid this from Kuroo for the time being.  He didn’t want him to find out that he spent all that money for nothing. He used them often, to show him that he liked them. However, Tsukishima’s façade did not last long.

He was cleaning up at work, and Kuroo went to pick him up for dinner (they’d decided to go out to eat). Without even a “yo” or “hey” like usual, Kuroo got straight to the point. “Your feet hurt, don’t they?”

“What?”

“You don’t walk the way you usually do.”

 _You know how I walk?_ Although Tsukishima thought this, he subconsciously knew that he could recognize Kuroo from the way he walked as well. He wondered when that started. “Oh,” he simply stated.

“Am I right? Show me your feet.” Tsukishima showed him his feet. They were pink and blistered. Kuroo held them and rubbed his fingers over the irritated and red areas. He groaned. “Well. I guess I’m gonna have to give them to someone, huh? Do you still want to go to dinner? Or do you want to go home?”

Tsukishima contemplated his options. He wanted to go home. “Home,” he said.

Kuroo bent down and spread his arms out. “Hop on,” he said, “I’ll carry you.”

“What?”

“Come on. It must hurt to even stand.”

He, albeit reluctant, took Kuroo up on his offer. He was being carried piggyback style. “Am I heavy?” he asked.

“Not really. But I’m strong.”

Tsukishima sunk his face in the bend of Kuroo’s neck, covered by his scarf. It was warm enough to want to fall asleep. He noted that Kuroo smelled like strawberry. Somehow, it all made him say, “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For not telling you they hurt. Those sneakers were a mistake. You were right.”

“I see. But since you’re hurt, I can’t laugh and shout ‘I was right!’ So it’s fine.”

“Okay.”

“Good.”

“By the way, I want strawberry shortcake. Can we go get some?”

“Anything for you, Princess Tsukki.”

“Shut up, Tetsu.”

When they got back home, Tsukishima dug into his cake. On the box the cake was in, there was a small image of a dinosaur eating cake at the bottom. Immediately he asked Kuroo for a pair of scissors and cut out the image. Kuroo, noticing this, couldn’t help but ask, “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like? I’m cutting out a dinosaur.”

“Do you _like_ dinosaurs?” In fact, Tsukishima loved them. He could name a whole lot for hours on end, without breaking a sweat. It was one of his strange hidden talents, like drawing. He finished cutting out the picture and held it up. To him, this was cuter than any cat or dog. Kuroo said, “So are dinosaurs to you as cats are to me?”

“I guess.”

“Can you name a hundred of them?”

He could probably name more than a hundred. “Sure.”

They were there until past midnight.

***

Kuroo was driving Tsukishima out of his mind. He’d been making him go on errand after errand to buy items for the party, the party being for Kuroo and his coworkers. Normally, he would want to stay away from his coworkers and boss as much as possible, but he was in desperate need for a raise at this point. He had to somehow gain a higher position. Fed up with him, Tsukishima ignored him for a while. This was something he did when he didn’t want to have to deal with someone or something at the moment. Kuroo knew this very well, and he also knew the only way to get him to speak again. “Sorry. I’ll do the rest myself. Okay?”

Feeling somewhat guilty, Tsukishima said, “No, I’ll help. Just one more thing.”

When everything was finished, their home almost didn’t look like their home. It was too neat and clean. Even so, something inside Kuroo told him that as soon as the guests leave, the house was going back to normal.

Daichi was the first to arrive. He and Kuroo gave each other a lot less threatening glances; the trip to the inn must have made their relationship even a tiny bit more bearable. On that note, Tsukishima was glad.

More and more people arrived at their house, and Tsukishima met Kuroo’s boss. He was a large, much older man with heavy wrinkles and squinty eyes. He seemed like a nice old man, but being Kuroo’s boss, he had the air of someone whose bad side you would not want to experience.

Not long after the drinks came out, Tsukishima learned that Kuroo had a fake laugh. He laughed this really loud and forced cackle whenever his boss made a joke. Kuroo was very much drunk, and all over his coworkers, something that made Tsukishima uneasy. He’d never really seen him with others at work, so this was new and weird. Somehow, though, he knew that the real Kuroo Tetsurou was the one who liked to annoy him. He was the one who wasn’t very friendly, the stubborn one, and the one who loved cats. He was the one with claustrophobia, who couldn’t sleep properly and woke up around midnight sometimes.

One way or another, he liked all of these things. He liked his dorky cackle and his extraordinary partnership with Bokuto. He liked his company. He liked his rooster hair, believe it or not, because it was dark and soft like the night.

Most of the time Tsukishima would seem indifferent to Kuroo’s proclamations of love, but there were times when he would say something totally unexpected and make Kuroo the speechless one.

When he came over with a drink for Tsukishima, he said, “Let’s drink!”

“No, thanks. I’m good.”

“You sure?”

Tsukishima took in a deep breath. He wanted to tell him something. But he was drunk, so he probably wouldn’t remember it the next morning. Unexpectedly, this was in his favor. Either way, he had to say it now. _Now._ He looked at Kuroo’s half-lidded eyes. He nearly laughed; he couldn’t believe he was about to say something so endearing to such a disaster of a guy.

But he said it anyway. “I love you, you know.”


	13. Thunderstorms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A remembrance, a storm, and something unforgettable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fact that I was able to write the end of this chapter amazes me... it's kind of bleh imo, because I'm not good at writing sexy stuff? (or whatever the hell the ending is...) Either way, I hope you enjoy the chapter!

It was not easy to deliberately avoid Kuroo, especially when he knew you were avoiding him. Especially when he knew why. As for Kuroo’s excuse to explain why he remembers what Tsukishima said to him (and why he was avoiding him), it went something like this:

At the time, Kuroo said nothing in return. He simply laughed and kept on moving. This was what Tsukishima had hoped for, so he sighed in relief. However, the next morning, Kuroo woke up and shouted, “TSUKKI!”

It was loud enough to wake Tsukishima from his slumber. He went to Kuroo’s room and asked what was wrong, but he figured it out as soon as he saw the smirk on his face and the gleam in his eyes. It told him that _he knew._

“Say it again,” he said.

Tsukishima feigned ignorance. “Say what?”

“You know what I’m talking about. I may have been drunk, but I remember.” He got out of bed and walked up close to him. “I remember. Why would you say it to me if you didn’t want me to remember?”

He scoffed. “I said it thinking that you would forget. How come you remember, anyway? You were completely drunk, you lightweight.”

Kuroo laughed. “You snapped me right out of the alcohol! It was so sudden that I didn’t say anything. But why would you say it if you thought I’d forget?” He was gentle in every way. Maybe because it was morning and he’d just gotten out of bed, or because that’s how he was in a relationship, but his eyes were kind and his posture was relaxed.

Tsukishima couldn’t lie to him this way. “It would have been embarrassing,” he admitted.

“Why?”

“Because I’ve never felt for anyone so much before.”

Kuroo drew closer and whispered into his ear, “Is it heavy?”

“No. Somehow, it’s light.” His body shivered. He was completely weak now. “Tetsu, stop,” he managed to get out of his quivering voice.

“Do you _really_ want me to stop?”

“Yes, I really want you to stop.”

Kuroo stepped back and sighed. “One day,” he said. “Soon.”

Now, Tsukishima, still slightly upset, begun to avoid him. Aside from being upset, though, he was flustered. He didn’t know how to face him, even though the urge to do much more came over him multiple times. _Why did I tell him to stop?_

“I won’t do it anymore,” Kuroo said, out of all options. He was down to his last tactic to get Tsukishima to forgive him. “If I do that again, you can hit me.”

Tsukishima had to tell him the truth. “No, I’m not even mad anymore. It’s okay.”

“Then why have you been avoiding me?”

 _Because every time I look at you I want to kiss you (among other things). And that scares me._ Of course, he didn’t say something as embarrassing as this. He said, “I’m really awkward, aren’t I? Every time I look at you I just turn away. I don’t know what to do sometimes.” Even without the first part, this was more or less how he felt.

Kuroo replied knowingly, “Because you love me, right?”

It startled Tsukishima how adept and quick Kuroo was (when it came to him, at least). “Right . . .”

“Then it’s fine. You and I are fine. Just being the gloomy sarcastic guy you are is fine.”

“Really . . .?”

“Really. Also, do you know what day is coming soon?”

This was an easy question. “Your birthday. How old are you turning? Thirty?”

Kuroo gasped. “Damn, Tsukki! That hurts! I’m turning twenty-eight! Twenty-eight! Jesus.”

“Oh. Sorry.” Tsukishima was joking; he wanted to mess with Kuroo a bit.

“Anyway, I’m going to tell you what I want for my birthday. From you.” At the time, Tsukishima wasn’t worried at all about what Kuroo was going to say. He figured it would be something cheap and easy to find. But as soon as Kuroo started talking again, he froze. “I want you to initiate a kiss. _And_ tell me those three words that, for some reason, are so difficult to say.”

“Just . . . just that?”

“Yeah. Seems pretty reasonable to me.”

It was this conversation that made Tsukishima realize just how childish he was. Just from a whisper, he felt like he was going to collapse. From a kiss (or four), he felt like he was greedy for wanting more. From seeing him naked, he felt like he was going to die from his heart stopping. Truthfully, to him, these were all childish concerns; the type of thoughts you’d get in high school. But he was no longer a teenager. He was an adult. He’s just had so little experience with relationships that being _in_ one feels like he’s lost in fog. But he wanted this, and he finally had it. He would get used to it, eventually. The fog would soon clear.

He believed it would. “Okay,” he said, “I’ll do it.”

***

Tsukishima could hear Kuroo’s cry of terror even through his headphones. He ran to him. “What’s wrong?” Kuroo was at the table, in front of a pile of ripped open envelopes and papers with numbers.

He turned to him with teary eyes. “The bills are piling up.”

Tsukishima sighed. He was glad it was nothing _too_ serious. “Are you saying we can’t pay them?”

“It’s not like we _don’t_ have the money. I’m saying I don’t want to pay them. If it weren’t for those sneakers . . .” Tsukishima couldn’t help but feel a wave of guilt. Kuroo realized this the moment he finished talking, and added, “Don’t worry. It’s not your fault. I decided to buy them.”

“Still.”

“Somehow, seeing your face clears my mind. I know what we should do to get our minds off this.”

“Oh. What is it?”

“The beach.”

Tsukishima thought about it. The idea wasn’t bad. He could imagine the rocks and the sand, he could smell the seawater and feel the waves. He could see the making of his great sandcastle. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

Kuroo was surprised. “Huh? That easily? Aren’t you an introvert or something?”

“We went to an _onsen_ together, so why not the beach? Though I would rather die than go in the water.”

“Yeah, that’s one thing we can agree on.”

“So when are we going?”

“Sometime next weekend. Sunday, I think. The forecast said it’s supposed to be warm and sunny.”

That was what happened. That was why they packed a blanket, an umbrella, and lots of food. That was why they decided to walk to the largest beach around. But why was it that, when they were only halfway there, it started to rain? First, it was a drop on Tsukishima’s nose. Then, it was a drop on Kuroo’s head. Soon enough it drizzled. The clouds turned grey and came together in a huddle. The wind picked up and it got colder.

Kuroo stopped walking altogether. “FUCKING HELL!” he shouted into the gloomy abyss of the atmosphere.

Tsukishima, just as disappointed and frustrated, sighed and took out his umbrella with dinosaur print. “We have to head back. It won’t be long before this drizzle turns into a downpour. It’s going to be a storm.”

“We’re going to have to run, then. I don’t want to get caught in a storm. Lose the umbrella. You can run faster without it.” Kuroo was serious about this. Cats really don’t like water.

So Tsukishima put his lovely umbrella away and they began to run. The bags they carried bounced back and forth. He worried about the food they’d packed. Surely they were a mess now. Somewhere along the line, even though he was tired from running, he couldn’t stop. His legs couldn’t stop moving. His feet couldn’t stop stepping. His vision blurred from the raindrops in his glasses, but he could still see Kuroo’s back. Somehow he was a lot less upset than before. His instinct told him Kuroo was feeling the same way. There was a strange feeling that came with running in the rain. It was a weird mixture of a sense of urgency, and pleasure. The rain didn’t stop falling. So they didn’t stop running. It was oddly euphoric, and while they continued to get wet, it was as if the rain washed away any worry or frustration from underneath them. Tsukishima felt happy. He felt content to be doing something so silly with Kuroo.

He thought it was so silly that he laughed. For a second, Kuroo turned around and looked at his laughing face. He laughed as well. “Really,” he exclaimed, “looking at your face makes everything better!”

_How can he say that so loudly? It sounds like something from a shoujo manga. Seriously. How can this guy say such sly words?_

 

Back home, they were exhausted and soaking wet. Kuroo ran to the bath, so Tsukishima had to wait. Then again, there was the option of going in _with_ him, but he ruled that one out for the time being.

After he took his bath, he noticed Kuroo was in the kitchen, examining the lunch boxes they’d prepared for the trip. They looked like a typhoon hit them. “Well, they’re still edible . . .”

Tsukishima felt strange. He didn’t want to leave Kuroo’s side. “Hey, Tetsu. Can we go in your room? You can bring the food.”

“Hmm? Why?”

“I don’t like being alone during storms.”

As they sat on Kuroo’s bed and ate, the rain quickly turned into a storm. The thunder sounded like falling trucks and flashes of lightning shone through the curtains. The lights in the room were dimmed. After eating, Kuroo went to the kitchen to put the boxes in the sink. He came back and Tsukishima was lying down underneath the cat-printed sheets. He did the same. “What are you thinking about?” he asked him.

Tsukishima took a while to reply. “Your laugh.”

“Oh, from earlier? That was fun.”

“I like your laugh.”

Kuroo paused. This was another instance of Tsukishima’s unexpected words of affection. “I like your laugh, too,” he said. “It’s unexpectedly high-pitched. Like my mother’s laugh.”

“I don’t know if I should take that as a compliment.”

“Well, you should.” He later added, “Kei.”

More than he probably should have, he liked hearing Kuroo say his name. His first name was something only his family called him by. No one else ever did, so he got more used to everything else others called him. However he definitely liked the way Kuroo said it. Short, deep and full of volume. How could he like a name more when someone else said it? He said, “Can you . . . call me that from now on?”

Kuroo said firmly, “Good. I like Kei.” He motioned for Tsukishima to come closer, his long arms wrapping around his shoulders. “You’re warm,” he whispered.

Tsukishima didn’t show it on his face, but he was freaking out. All he could think about was this big guy with long arms and a sheltered heart. He thought, _Seriously, what’s so great about this guy? Why can’t I leave him alone? All he does is tease me and get me hard. But all this time, he’s been sharing pieces of himself with me. What about me? It’s time for me to let him in. Even though I somehow can't understand . . . how he fell for someone like me._

The storm may have been screaming and crying outside, but inside their apartment was a beautifully gentle silence. The next thing Tsukishima saw was Kuroo, hovering over him. He wasn’t smiling, and he wasn’t glaring. He just stared at him as if awaiting a response or an “okay.” He frowned and waited. Tsukishima said nothing. 

After a minute of intense staring, it happened. He submitted. He allowed Kuroo to shower him with kisses, his face and neck and arms. He allowed him to nibble on his ear. He allowed him to be there, and very, very, close to him. They swiftly ripped off their shirts, and Kuroo slid his belt off. He hovered over Tsukishima, and went for his nipples. Gently, he sucked on them, feeling the blonde shiver below him. “D-do you still want that stuff for your birthday?” Tsukishima regretted ever trying to talk in the middle of this.

“No, you can forget that,” Kuroo laughed, “this is _way_ better.”

“Idiot,” he said, quickly followed by a silent moan. He hardly noticed that his entire body was exposed to him, until it was.

“That was cute,” he thought aloud. He continued as his lips traced Tsukishima's thighs.

“Shut up, Tets—” Tsukishima muttered weakly. He covered his mouth because he didn’t want to hear his own moans.

“Don’t forget,” Kuroo began as he made the lube and condoms magically appear (they came from underneath the bed). His eyes narrowed and a dark shadow crept up on his face. “I’m in control here.”

Tsukishima shuddered, both at his face and at every sensation in his body going from zero to one hundred. He felt numb, but he felt _everything._  “You’re an asshole.”

“Look. I’ve been waiting for a long time. Besides, you love me, don’t you?”

“Yes, okay. I love you, dammit.” That was when Tsukishima noticed it. He noticed the bed sheets. “Um, hold on. We’re not doing this on your bed.”

“Huh? Why not?”

“The cat print is distracting. I feel like they’re staring at us.”

“What? That’s so . . .” He trailed off since he began to notice it himself. “Fine,” he groaned.

“So my bed or the sofa?”

“Which one is more reckless?” he asked, though he knew the answer.

“The sofa . . .?” Tsukishima was only slightly hesitant on defiling Sachi.

Kuroo got up and carried Tsukishima in a princess hold. “Oya oya? The sofa it is, then!”


	14. Adventures of Kuroo Tetsurou

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post-its, an apron, and camping.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since the other chapters are, more or less, in Tsukki's perspective and since this chapter is pretty Kuroo based, I decided to write this in his perspective.  
> Also, I guess I should say that there are two chapters left...  
> Enjoy!

Kuroo had two leading obsessions during this time. The first was playing with Tsukishima’s nipples (which was obvious, given how much he tweaked them when they first had sex). The second was writing on post-its. He’d gotten a whole pack from Bokuto (of course), very randomly, with the reasoning: “Keiji had extra.” At first, he was reluctant and muddled on what exactly he was supposed to do with them. But when he thought of Tsukishima, he got ideas. First, he used them to label the things in the house. He labeled the toilet “TOILET” and the mirror “PLACE FOR KEI’S BEAUTIFUL FACE”. He labeled the sofa “SACHI” and the recliner “SORA”, as they had been named. He stopped and stared at the recliner, and added another post-it: “PLACE FOR KEI’S WONDERFUL ASS TO SIT”. He laughed as he read what he wrote.

Tsukishima was going to kill him.

He went on to the kitchen, and wrote the fridge as “JUST A GIANT COOLER” and the kitchen itself as “PLACE WHERE KEI CAN MAKE DELICIOUS FOOD”. Afterwards he labeled his room as “MY ROOM”, Tsukishima’s room as “PLACE WHERE KEI CAN SLEEP PEACEFULLY”, and the storage closet “DAD’S ROOM”. Below the post-it on Tsukishima’s door, he decided to add, “I LOVE YOU”. He looked at his masterpiece around the house, and smiled. He was happy.

When Tsukishima came home, he didn’t notice the existence of the post-its until he went to sit on the recliner and glared at it. Kuroo watched from a distance as he went to the other post-its. He read the one on the fridge and stifled a laugh at its silliness. He read the one for the kitchen and smiled. He walked over to his room and read it, as he took off the post-it that said _I LOVE YOU._ He turned his head and read the one on the storage closet. He smiled again and went to Kuroo, who was at the entrance to his room, watching him the whole time.

“Idiot,” he said, holding up the one post-it he removed. “You’re an idiot.”

He was surprised he wasn’t dead already. “I know, I know. I got them from Koutarou.”

“Can I see one?” Kuroo gave him one, he wrote on it in secret, then stuck it on Kuroo’s forehead.

He took it off and read it aloud: “HAPPY BIRTHDAY.” He himself has just remembered that it was his birthday (even though he was the one who reminded Tsukishima about it). He didn’t say this, though he didn’t have to.

Tsukishima read him like a book. “Oh my God. You forgot, didn’t you?”

“W-well . . .”

He sighed heavily. “You’re hopeless. Bokuto and Akaashi are coming over with drinks soon, and I have a present for you. But since you forgot, I don’t know, should I really give it to you?”

For Kuroo, watching Tsukishima’s expressions as he walked around the house reading the post-its was enough of a present. What more could he possibly get? “I want it,” he said.

“Okay, then.” Tsukishima took out from his bag a green piece of clothing. He opened it up and held it out. It was an apron with a T-rex in the middle.

Kuroo was confused. “Is this for me or for you? It’s got a _dinosaur_ , not a cat.”

With a sparkling tint in his eye, he said, “Well, the thing is, you’re going to wear it . . . for me. So I can watch you cook in it.” Looking at it that way, Kuroo was even more confused. _Wouldn’t that count as a birthday present for him?_  he thought. Tsukishima continued, “I know what you’re thinking. But here’s the part you’ll be interested in. I’ll let you wear it without anything underneath.”

This most definitely caught his attention. It was low-guard moments like these that Tsukishima surprised him. He reassured him that he was the one for him. He said, “Long story short, you want me to be kinky once in a while.”

Whenever he was embarrassed, Tsukishima’s ears would turn pink before his cheeks, he would look down at the floor, and his lips would silently quiver. He was like that now. Something told Kuroo that this idea was instigated by Bokuto, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t wait to try it out.

“Thanks,” he said. He was happy.

Later, when Bokuto and Akaashi came over with drinks, he did learn who instigated the naked apron idea to Tsukishima. But it wasn’t Bokuto. It was Akaashi.

***

When Kuroo went to Tsukishima’s workplace to surprise him, he was utterly annoyed at the sight of a fluff of orange hair bouncing up and down, talking to his smiling boyfriend. Didn’t this shorty already have someone? Or rather, someone he was pursuing? What was he doing, flirting with Tsukishima?

He went up to them so as not to seem jealous. Hinata glanced back and forth between them and gave Tsukishima a thumbs-up as he ran off. Kuroo scoffed. “So much for surprising you,” he said.

“Yeah. Also, you shouldn’t be jealous of Hinata. No, actually, just don’t be.”

“Eh? You could tell?”

“Just by your facial expressions. But Hinata and Kageyama are dating. He came to tell me that.”

“Woah! Seriously? I wonder how he caught him.” Suddenly, Kuroo remembered the _real_ reason he came to Tsukishima at work. “Oh, that’s right. Koutarou and Akaashi invited us to go camping with them next week. Here, of course.”

“Camping?” Tsukishima made the face he made whenever he was irritated or disliked something. _“Camping?”_ he repeated.

“I know how you feel. Which one of them came up with the idea?” Both of them immediately thought it was Bokuto (and this time it was). “Anyway, I don’t want to hear Koutarou complain anymore about not being able to see me right away, so we should just go. It could be fun. Like, a double date in the woods.” Truthfully, Kuroo really wanted to go. He tried to play it cool in front of Tsukishima, because that’s how he was, but yet again, the latter proved he had a sharp intuition.

“To me, it sounds like you really want to go, so I don’t think it’ll be a problem. We should go.”

Ever so slightly, Kuroo brightened. “Seriously? I thought I’d have to get Koutarou to beg you.”

“Yeah, yeah. Now, go. I have to work.”

Kuroo was happy.

***

The camping trip was tomorrow, and they didn’t pack yet. The reason being that they couldn’t find bags large enough to put both of their necessities in. “Let’s look in the storage closet. There might be something there,” Tsukishima suggested, unaware of the event to come. Without knowing it, as they walked in, the door closed on its own. It closed, and no matter how hard they tried, it wouldn’t open. That’s when it happened. That’s when Tsukishima (and Kuroo’s father) witnessed one of Kuroo’s attacks. “Tetsu,” he said, “Tetsu, what’s wrong?” It didn’t take him long to actually figure it out. Kuroo was claustrophobic.

He fell to the floor and covered his face with his arms. He was shaking, staring at his father’s picture in the shrine. His breathing speed up dangerously, and he begun to mumble, “Dad” and “Mom” over and over. Tsukishima couldn’t move. He wasn’t scared in the slightest. He just didn’t know what he should do—what he _could_ do, to help him. He saw him in pain before, at midnight, but this was different. He looked alone, and afraid, and yet constantly fighting something. He looked at Kuroo’s father. _Tell me what I should do,_ he said.

Kuroo, cold and silent, suddenly felt warm. He looked up and saw Tsukishima next to him with his arms wrapped around him tightly. “I’ll protect you,” he whispered. “Take deep breaths.” Kuroo did as he was told. Slowly, the pain and the shivers decreased. Was it the warmth? His voice? Or just _him_? By the time he fell asleep, Tsukishima had kicked open the door. He looked back at Kuroo’s father, and in front of the shrine was the type bag they were looking for. He took the bag and Kuroo, and said, “Thank you.”

The next order of business was food. Cooking food for the trip there. Tsukishima decided to finally make those sandwiches Kuroo had wanted a while ago. Along with that, he packed rice, cabbage, _tamagoyaki_ , salted mackerel, etc. While he was cooking, though, some of the food “magically” disappeared. It was a given that Kuroo had been picking and eating. Tsukishima was close to stabbing his hand with chopsticks. “Don’t be like that,” Kuroo chirped.

“ _Che._ If you’re gonna eat, then help me.”

Kuroo enthusiastically helped Tsukishima cut up some cabbage. He was so elated that he didn’t notice what exactly he was doing, that the knife nearly sliced his hand in half. He paused, not feeling the pain. A few seconds later, he noticed the cabbage being spotted red. He turned to Tsukishima and held out his hand. It was taking every nerve and muscle in his body at the moment to not scream out crying. The pain came at full throttle.

Tsukishima, for once, freaked out (externally). His face turned pale and he dropped everything. “Shit, shit, we need to go the hospital. Right now!”

“But the food—”

“ _Fuck_ the food. I’m not having you dying on me, you bastard.”

Amidst the pain and chaos, Kuroo couldn’t help but laugh. Tsukishima was cursing and shouting, he was almost a different person. _So this is what he’s like when he’s freaking out, huh?_ He knew he wouldn’t die from this. But he thought he’d play along, since Tsukishima being like this was probably a once in a lifetime event.

When they got back from the hospital, Kuroo was trying not to laugh. Tsukishima was angry and embarrassed; the nurse who helped Kuroo made fun of him for coming to a hospital for that kind of problem. There was a large bandage around Kuroo’s hand. He wouldn’t be able to use it for a while. “Are you upset? I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Your reaction was just hilarious,” he laughed.

“You say that, but you’d be the same if _I_ cut myself.”

He was right.

***

In Bokuto’s minivan, the four of them devoured the lunches Tsukishima made. “These are so good, Tsukki, I think I might trade you for Keiji,” Bokuto joked.

“That isn’t funny,” both Kuroo and Akaashi said in unison.

“Seriously, though. You’d be a great housewife,” he continued.

Tsukishima, who was in the back seats with Akaashi, nearly reached over to strangle Bokuto, who was driving. “Between you and Tetsu, I don’t know who’s more of an ass,” he retorted.

“About that,” Akaashi whispered to him, “how is it going for the two of you?”

“Huh? Oh, it’s fine. Our relationship hasn’t changed much from before.”

“That’s good. I’m glad.”

“Why did you ask?”

“I’m kind of asking in Kou-san’s stead. He wouldn’t admit it, but he was rooting for you two from the very beginning. The both of us are glad to see that you’re smiling more.”

Kuroo had nothing better to do, so he was listening in on their conversation until Bokuto asked him, “So have you done it yet?”

He smirked. “Oh yeah. More than once.”

“Hey, hey, hey! That’s Kuroo for ya. Tsukki is so stubborn, I thought it’d be another year until you got any action.”

“Oh, please. Not even _he_ could wait that long. Bro, who knew the nipples are his sensitive spots? And, he got so pissed when he saw that I left a hickey on his thigh.”

Bokuto was genuinely surprised, and held in his laughter. “Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

Neither of them knew that their significant others had ended their conversation and were listening in. Tsukishima and Akaashi exchanged glances of disgust and disappointment, but at the same time they had just a little bit of laughter in their eyes. Their boyfriends were one of a kind.

They reached the campsite and set up their tents. Bokuto and Akaashi shared a tent, but since Kuroo was paranoid of the smallness of the tent, especially after what happened yesterday, he left the tent to Tsukishima and set up a sleeping bag outside of it.

That night, after they talked, laughed, ate, and searched for animals, Kuroo headed to bed. He just couldn’t fall asleep, not even until everyone else did. Maybe it was because he knew Tsukishima was right beside him in the tent, and he wanted to be with him badly. Maybe he didn’t want to sleep outside after all. But he couldn’t do anything. He didn’t want to go through what he went through yesterday. He got up and started the fire again. He sat by it and looked up at the sky. As he saw the stars, the very bright but tiny stars, he was glad he came.

“You can’t sleep?” He heard Tsukishima’s voice from behind.

“Nope. You too?”

“No, I was sleeping. I just woke up and saw the fire.”

“I see.”

Tsukishima lay down beside him. “So, what are you thinking about?”

“I didn’t . . . thank you for helping me yesterday. In the storage closet. I haven’t had an attack like that in a while.”

“Well, you should thank your father, too. He kind of told me what to do.”

“Come on, Kei. You and I both know that old man can’t speak to you.”

“Still,” Tsukishima insisted, “I heard him.”

 _Maybe that’s what it is about you,_ Kuroo thought, _you never push anyone away. Your personality isn’t the greatest, neither is mine, but I’m drawn to that. It’s kind of like, I’m the darkness of the night. But you’re the moon. You’re the light._

Kuroo laughed at his own cheesiness. But he was happy.


	15. White Tulips

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A sleepless night, a race in the cold, "Mom", and white tulips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like the previous chapter could have been the end if I didn't want to torture myself with more stuff to write. Alas, here we are, and here I go into a hole and cry.

The scream was loud enough to be heard from the other apartments. Tsukishima jolted awake, his heart skipping a beat. He bolted towards the sound, which was coming from the person sleeping on the sofa: Kuroo. At least, he was trying to sleep, since he even left his bed, but this time was one of the bad ones.

There was knocking, or a pounding, on the door. Tsukishima answered it to see Kageyama with a worried (and angry) expression. “Oi. What’s going on?” he asked.

“It doesn’t concern you. Go back. Leave,” he snapped. Kuroo was still screaming, but in shorter intervals. Tsukishima didn’t have time for conversation. He had to help him as soon as possible.

“Is he okay, at least?”

Just to get him to leave, he wanted to say “he’s fine.” But that, at this moment, was an obvious lie. This was a test. “No, he’s not okay. He’s fucking screaming, and I have to calm him down.”

“You don’t need my help?”

He thought about it. “If you can make miso soup . . . it's his favorite in winter.”

Kageyama smiled, as if he was glad Tsukishima wasn’t his usual negative and stubborn self. “Okay.”

Immediately he ran to Kuroo and sat beside him. He sunk his face into his neck and rubbed his back. The screaming had stopped and reduced to painful moans. He could not, for the life of him, figure out what was giving him so much pain. He couldn’t figure out why this night had to be so much different from the others. “Tetsu,” he said, “just listen to my voice. It’s okay. I’m right here. You’re going to be okay.”

Slowly, Kuroo calmed down. His breathing went back to normal and his heartbeat slowed. He relaxed his muscles and opened his eyes to see a fuzz of blonde hair in his face. “Kei?” he said with a muffled voice.

“Oh, thank God.” Tsukishima looked at him in relief, then an instant later, he slapped him across the face. “What the hell was that?”

“How should I know! Don’t slap me!” Kuroo was already regaining his energy.

“I was scared, you idiot.”

Kuroo reached up and held Tsukishima’s face. “I’m sorry.” He looked over and noticed Kageyama in the kitchen. “Why is _he_ here?”

“Making soup. I wanted his help.”

From the kitchen, Kageyama said, “It’s almost done.”

When it was, the three of them ate some together. It was silent; the three of them weren’t exactly the best of friends. Soon Kageyama broke this silence. “So, how long has it been so far? For the two of you.”

They exchanged glances. “Eight months?” Kuroo said. “I think.”

“January will make nine,” Tsukishima added.

“That’s a long time,” Kageyama remarked.

“Not really. Time flies when _someone else_ drives you crazy,” Tsukishima said, side glancing at Kuroo. “Especially if that someone is always doing something new.”

Kuroo got to the point. “Why do you ask? Is it about that shrimp?”

Kageyama frowned and stared into the hot liquid. “Yeah. Sometimes, I feel like we’re too different.”

Kuroo jabbed Tsukishima in his side as if to say, _that’s your territory. Not mine._ So he deadpanned, “Have you _seen_ me and this stupid cat?”

“What?”

He took this opportunity to get some stuff off his chest. “Seriously. No stranger would think we’re together. This guy either can’t be romantic at all, or he’s too romantic and I find out he has a fever or something. He’s still an asshole, too. He steals my glasses and puts them on himself. He’s moody; one minute he’s smiling and the next he’s swearing to himself. He’ll bother you for hours.” Kuroo, silently, was seething in anger. It would only take a few more words to make him snap. However, Tsukishima continued with, “ _But,_ he’s not a bad guy. He’s surprisingly vulnerable.” Kuroo smiled to himself.

“What’s your point? Or did you just want to brag?” Kageyama retorted.

Tsukishima said, irritated at his attitude, “My point is, who’s to say that your differences won’t make you guys closer? I don’t really care about other people’s opinions, so if I want to be with someone, I’d want to be with them regardless of how they may seem. I probably just wouldn’t say it.”

“And,” Kuroo added, “I think that guy likes you. If you like him, then I don’t see the problem. If I can deal with Kei and his dinosaurs, you can deal with an orange shortie.”

 

When Kageyama left and went back to his apartment, it was two A.M. The silence that remained was dangerous. Tsukishima couldn’t just forget about the incident that just happened, no matter how many good things Kuroo said about him. “Are you _sure_ you don’t know what that was about?”

Kuroo sighed. “No, I know. Every time my father's death anniversary comes around, I get worried about her. I hope that she'll live to next year and many years after that. But I just get scared. I feel like I’m falling, and my mother will start falling with me.” He paused. “I know this isn’t making any sense. But this is the only reason I can think of . . .”

“And you don’t want to see a doctor?”

“Anything but that.”

“Then, how come this didn’t happen last year?”

“Well, that woman came to visit, didn’t she? That was a lifetime of worry off my shoulders.”

“I see.”

Again, Kuroo sighed. “Why do I have so many problems?” He lay down on the sofa and stared at the ceiling. “I hate it.”

“So do I,” Tsukishima said, “I hate your problems. I wish they would go away.”

“Yeah.” Kuroo ran his fingers through Tsukishima’s bedhead. “I really wish they would.”

***

When the box arrived, Tsukishima didn’t think much of it. He saw it as a random apparatus Kuroo ordered online to satisfy his never-ending curiosities. However, when he opened it, he cringed in disgust. When Kuroo came home from work, he said to him, “Go die.”

“I don’t even get a ‘welcome home’? What did I do now?!” he wailed.

“This?” He held up a thin zip-up hoodie and sweats. They were a set, and so had the same colors, black and red. There was another set, of the same colors, in the box. “Why are there two?”

“Oh, they came? Just in time. I bought two because they’re for the two of us, silly.”

“For what, exactly?”

“For this.” Kuroo took out a flier that read:

_NEIGHBORHOOD RELAY_

Everything after that was foreign to Tsukishima. “Wait, so, you’re telling me that you signed us up for a relay race? _In winter?_ Are you serious? Who the hell came up with this idea?”

“Suga did. He and I were thinking of ways to ‘unite the neighborhood.’ I invited Koutarou and Akaashi, too. And Sawamura. Oh, and I called Kenma about it. It’s been months since he was last here.”

“I can’t believe this . . . why didn’t you ask me first?”

“Because I didn’t want you to say no. Plus, there’s going to be food. Come on, Kei. Forgive me.”

“Ah, whatever. I don’t care.”

The truth was, he couldn’t be mad at Kuroo for long.

***

The fated day arrived. Continently enough, it wasn’t too cold outside. Tsukishima dreaded walking around with Kuroo, since they were wearing the same outfit. The first person to laugh at them for this was Daichi, who was a genuinely nice guy but this was something even he had to laugh at. He and Kuroo immediately started bickering. After, they found Bokuto and Akaashi, who brought along Ushijima. Tsukishima had told Yamaguchi to come, and found him as well. All of these familiar faces gathered, and Tsukishima had the feeling that this event would be something to remember.

He found Hinata, who laughed at them on sight. “Bwahaha! What is that? I didn’t know you were so in love.”

Kuroo started, “Well, we ar—”

“Shut up,” Tsukishima said, “Why are you even here, Hinata?”

“Kageyama invited me.” There was someone else next to Hinata. It wasn’t Kageyama, who was actually warming up on the side. It was Kenma.

“Oh! Kenma, you came!” Kuroo exclaimed.

“Ken-san,” Tsukishima said.

“Long time no see.” Kenma still very much looked like himself, but he may have grown a little taller.

“When did you get here?” Kuroo asked.

“Last week.”

“Last week? Then where have you been staying?”

“With Shouyou. I met him at the airport because he helped me look for my Game Boy. He said he was there to take pictures.”

“And Kageyama is okay with that?” Tsukishima asked.

“Probably not,” Hinata smiled weakly. “But he hasn’t said anything yet.”

“That guy, is he an idiot?”

“Yeah, he is.” Hinata looked over at Kageyama who was still stretching. He lowered his eyes and sighed. “He’s the world’s biggest idiot.”

Soon enough, the time came for the relay race to begin. In the giant yard, everyone was separated into five teams. The Cats, the Crows, and other animals were the team names. Kuroo went on to the Cats and Tsukishima the Crows. Hinata, Yamaguchi and Daichi also went with the Crows (Suga was the ref). Although Bokuto wasn’t a cat nor a crow, he went to that side as well, separated from Akaashi who went with the Cats. Also with the Cats were Kenma, Kageyama and Ushijima.

“HA! YOU ARE SO GOING TO GET CRUSHED!” Kuroo shouted to Bokuto and Tsukishima.

With the both of them motivated and pissed off, Bokuto said, “Tsukki, can I?”

“You can do the honors.”

Bokuto bent down and turned his back toward the Cats. He smacked his butt. “Kiss my ass, Kuroo! Don’t come crying to me when you’ve lost!”

“You? The hell would I? I’d go to Kei! I’d kiss Kei’s ass!” Kuroo roared back.

Tsukishima began, “I never asked you to kiss—”

“Oi! Stop it. You’re ruining my concentration,” Daichi said to him and Bokuto. The look in his eyes was enough to quiet them down and focus on the race. “Just run,” he said to the rest of the Crows, “run as fast as you can. There seems to be some obstacles, too. But I’m not about to lose. Especially to Kuroo. Ready?”

“Ready,” the Crows replied.

At first, they were behind. But when it became Kenma’s turn, they were able to catch up. Tsukishima was initially glad to be last, but he soon realized that he was the one who had to bring it home. He had to bring them the win. It was Yamaguchi who had to hand him the baton. He became fired up when he saw Kuroo starting to run. He was last as well. “Come, Yamaguchi!” he shouted.

“Win, Tsukki!” Yamaguchi yelled back.

“Go, Tsukishima!” Hinata cheered.

Immediately, his legs pedaled one after the other. He wasn’t thinking at all about how tired he was getting and he wasn’t worried at all about how far he had to run. He just ran past everyone he saw. He glanced over at Kuroo, who was already looking at him. He smiled and pushed himself even further. He felt the air brushing past his face and hair in forceful gusts. He could only see the scene in front of him, he could only see the goal that was straight ahead. He could do this. For once, his long legs became a winning factor. His endurance came from his karate classes.

“I’m sorry,” he shouted to Kuroo, “but I’m winning this!”

And he did.

 

“I can’t believe you guys won,” Kuroo spat, after the fact. "Damn birds."

“Bokuto warned you,” Tsukishima said.

“Kenma wouldn’t stop laughing at me. Because I was so confident, and I still lost.”

“Ken-san _laughed_?”

“It was more like his face and eyes laughed. That guy makes the funniest faces.”

“I can imagine.” They were in a small food court, resting up and eating after the race. The Crows hadn’t won anything in particular, but the “pride of being a winner.” Tsukishima wasn’t fond of that idea. “At least give me something tangible.”

“What would you even want?”

“Hmm. A dinosaur, maybe?”

Kuroo laughed. “Okay. Call me when you find someone who knows where I can get a dinosaur.”

Just then, a woman walked up to them. “Ohoho? Look at what we have here,” she said.

“Mom?!” Kuroo exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”

“I was in the neighborhood to buy some things. Hey, Tsukishima. You two seem close. The matching clothes and all,” she said.

“It was all this idiot’s idea,” Tsukishima said.

“It’s cute, though. So how long has it been?” She, like Kuroo, always got straight to the point when in a conversation.

“How long for what?” Kuroo feigned ignorance.

“Oh, come on. You know what I’m talking about. There’s nothing to hide. I know you like men. Either way, the matching clothes reeks of relationship,” she explained.

Tsukishima submitted. He liked Kuroo’s mother, so he didn’t want to lie to her. “Eight months.”

“Wow! You’re so bold, Tsukishima! Unlike my spineless son over here. Hmm. I guess, I should call you ‘Kei’, right? You’re a part of our family. You have been, for a long time.”

He smiled. “Yes.” When she left, he turned to Kuroo and his eyes widened. “You were that happy to see her, huh?”

Kuroo was crying very light tears. But he was crying, and he was not sad. He was relieved. He was so happy to see her that his happiness came out in the form of saltwater. “I have to see her more often. I love my mom, after all. I can’t have her suddenly just leave.”

***

Although he seemed like he didn’t care, he was bent on finding Tsukishima a dinosaur. A plushy, that is. He was out for almost the entire Sunday. He definitely found one, though. He was excited to see the expression on Tsukishima’s face when he brought it home. He also went to Ukai Flowers to buy white tulips. White tulips were his favorite because they reminded him of Tsukishima. They were bright white, like the moon, and tall and dignified. He made sure he saw Yachi at the counter instead of him, because he wanted it to be a surprise.

Yachi gave him a thumbs up. “Go for it.”

Not long after he got to the intersection near the apartment complex, the light was beginning to turn to stop. He ran for it, excited and impatient to see Tsukishima. To see the light to his darkness, the moon to his night. He couldn’t wait to see him. He was so focused on the home straight ahead that he didn’t see the light turning red, and what was coming at him at full throttle. Well, the motorcycle hadn’t purposefully hit him, but it did, because of a reckless stunt.

Surrounding Kuroo was darkness. Even before he went unconscious, he still thought about Tsukishima. He still only wanted to see him, regardless of his pain and his actual inability to move. Regardless of the blood he saw around him. He could no longer move. The dinosaur plushy was no longer near him. The white tulips, now scattered around him, were soaking in the dirt of the ground. They were no longer white. Even worse, he could feel drops of rain turning into giant packets of water.

He didn’t want to go yet, because there was Bokuto, Akaashi, his mother and Kenma. Mostly, there was Tsukishima and he didn’t want to leave him. There were still so many sides to him that he hasn’t seen. They’d only had sex four times so far, and it was so close to being a year since they started going out. Their lives together had just begun.

He wanted to shout Tsukishima’s name, and have him magically appear. Then everything would be fine. But that could not happen. Everything was wrong. Everything was falling apart. _Move,_ he thought. He coughed up more blood, and heard distant sirens.

 _Kei,_ he thought. _Kei. I don’t want to die. I don't want to see my old man just yet . . . I want to live, with you and Mom and Koutarou and everyone . . ._

As he started to black out, the sirens drew closer and he heard a voice. A shaken, broken, fragile voice. “Tetsu! Tetsurou. Don’t you dare leave me.”

_Don’t you dare leave him._


	16. Endings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A finale.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, so this is done. Even writing this fic has made me upset at (and at times, proud of) myself. I hope you all enjoyed it. Keep being awesome, my lovelies!

He didn’t notice that it happened until it did. He’d been worried, because Kuroo was out for the whole day. He heard sirens and ran outside to see what happened, and his biggest fears came to life right in front of his eyes. He saw Kuroo, on the ground, still. He saw a dinosaur plushy and white tulips. Inside, he screamed.

“Don’t you dare leave me,” he said.

The ambulance arrived and took him away.

 

**_(Part I)_ **

At the hospital, the doctors weren’t allowing visitors until after the immediate surgery was done. Tsukishima, Kuroo’s mother, Bokuto and Akaashi all sat in the waiting area. He didn’t show it, but Tsukishima was on the verge of exploding. He wanted to explode. He wanted to punch something, but even that felt too troublesome. Above all, he wanted to just lay by Kuroo’s side and stay there for as long as he could.

The entire time when he couldn’t see Kuroo, he prayed. Usually he wouldn’t, because he couldn’t strongly believe in something he couldn’t see. But this time, he had to do everything in his ability to make sure Kuroo stayed alive.

When the doctor came to update them, she said that he was stabilized. He had many broken ribs and torn muscles, due to the impact of the heavy (and fast) motorcycle colliding into his body. He was unconscious, but okay for the time being. She said that he could have visitors, but only briefly and family members were first. So Kuroo’s mother went to see him, and when she came back, Tsukishima asked Bokuto and Akaashi if either of them wanted to see him next.

“What are you talking about?” said Bokuto, almost angrily. “ _You_ have to go.”

So he went. His hands trembled and his heart nearly stopped as he opened the door. He saw Kuroo on the bed, covered in white. His body was still, as if stopped in time. He slowly approached him, the shine of the light in the room blinding his glasses. Actually, what blinded himself were drops of water coming from his eyes. He fell to the floor and rested his head next to Kuroo on the bed. He couldn’t move his limbs or think any thoughts. He only felt helpless, and frustrated, and once again he realized how painful love was.

He wept.

Back at home, everything was more quiet and empty than usual. There wasn’t Kuroo waiting for him; he wasn’t sleeping on the sofa or making dinner with a smile. The lights were off, and everything was dark. “Ah, dammit. This is so annoying,” he said to himself. “He’s not here. Why do I think he’s going to show up?” He went straight to his room and fell on his bed. “Hurry up and come home . . .”

He never knew how much he needed Kuroo by his side until he wasn’t. He hadn’t learned how much he truly loved him until he was almost gone for good. For the first time, he realized he loved his home.

***

Two days later, Kuroo woke up right when Tsukishima was in the room. He was changing the white tulips by his bed, as he always did when the previous ones would begin to wither. He heard a moan coming from Kuroo’s mouth. He finally had his eyes open. “. . . Kei?” he said, since he saw Tsukishima first.

“It’s me.”

“You . . . don’t seem . . . happy to hear . . . my voice.” The truth was, he couldn’t be any happier. His face just couldn’t show anything but pain. Kuroo continued, “But I’m guessing . . . that you . . . are really . . . mad at me.”

“No, I’m not.” The truth was, while he was happy, a part of him wanted to put Kuroo to rest himself.

“Don’t lie.”

He shouldn’t have even tried. Kuroo was too skilled at reading him. “Fine. You want the truth? Here’s the truth. I can’t believe you went and almost got yourself killed by a _bike._ I can’t believe you were gone for an entire day to get me a dinosaur and some flowers. I now realize how much of a fool you are.”

From what he could see, Kuroo smiled weakly. “You’re this upset . . . I see. I’m sorry. But for the . . . record, it was a motorcycle, and I went to get you that stuff because I . . . wanted to. So it was my fault.”

Tsukishima couldn’t find the words to say. He was feeling too much to be able to think. “You know . . . I’ve never liked using words to express myself. It’s funny, because I used to only be able to trust people by what they told me. Yamaguchi understood me without me having to speak much. Bokuto was fine if I stayed quiet while he talked nonstop. With you . . . it seems that’s all I can do. It’s like I have to talk to you, to make sure you’re there and to make sure that you won’t leave. Because honestly, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Kei . . .”

“And I know how you are, so I know that, even for a second, you wanted the accident to be the end. I know you’re tired. I know you have a lot of shit to carry . . . sorry, I don’t know where I’m going with this.” He didn’t want to talk anymore, or else he would burst into tears.

“Kei, are you crying?” Oh. He already did.

“I . . . it feels like I am. My vision is all blurry.”

“Come over here.”

Tsukishima slowly walked over to him. “I’m here.”

Kuroo took his hand and held it tightly, with no intention of ever letting go. “You don’t have to talk to make sure I stay . . . you should just talk because I’m there. I can’t make any promises, but I won’t leave you . . . I won’t.”

“. . . Okay.”

“Lean over.”

“What?”

“Just do it. And kiss me. I can’t really move too much, you see.” Albeit reluctant, Tsukishima kissed him softly. Kuroo’s lips were cold and dry, but that didn’t matter to him. What mattered was that he still had the audacity to ask for a kiss when the doctor could walk in any moment. He realized that he had longed for the feel of Kuroo’s lips on his own, and the warmth that consumed them both. “Thank you, Kei,” Kuroo said afterwards.

“For what?”

He smiled. “For saving my life.”

***

Kuroo was released from the hospital in late March. It took many days to get back in the routine of everything, especially since Kuroo needed some assistance walking around. Because of the pain, he hasn’t taken a shower in days. “You stink like hell,” Tsukishima said to him.

“Uh, sorry,” Kuroo replied, “but it’s not easy.”

“Then, I’ll help you. Because you really stink.”

He immediately had sparkles in his eyes and smiled. “You will?”

Now realizing just what he said he would do, his face went up into flames and he wanted to take it back so much, but he couldn’t because Kuroo really did stink. “I will.”

Kuroo’s face had _SCORE!_ written all over it. In the bathtub, the two of them were in it together. “Sometimes I’m glad we live together,” he said, implying that they should do this more often.

Tsukishima sighed. “Of course you are.”

“I’ve seen you naked before, but this is new.”

“It is.”

“I like it.”

“Of course you do.”

“Can you wash my back now?”

“Oh, right.” Tsukishima rose from the bath and helped Kuroo up on the stool. He stared at the broadness of his back. It was a back that carried, protected, cried and laughed, and nearly died. This back that embraced him so many times. He begun to scrub his back tenderly.

 

**_(Part II)_ **

When Tsukishima got a phone call from his mother, he was more than alarmed. He let the phone ring to voicemail the first time. The second time, Kuroo shouted, “Just answer it!”

So he did. “Hello?” he muttered.

“Kei. I knew you’d answer eventually. How are you?”

“I’m fine.”

“How has work been?”

“Fine.”

“And your roommate?”

“His name is Kuroo. And he’s fine.”

There was silence, and he expected this, because he’d been replying so insensitively. His mother continued, “I know you’re upset. But that’s why I’m calling you. That’s why I’m trying.”

She, clearly, was trying. But he hardly wanted to hear her voice. “What do you want from me?” he asked.

“I want my son to be my son again,” she said. “And I called to tell you some news.”

“What news?”

“Akiteru told me Saeko’s having twins. Her due date is in October. He told me to tell you this.”

Twins? And so soon? “That’s in six and a half months. I’m happy for them.” This wasn’t a lie by any means, but he partly felt that _he_ wasn’t ready.

“That’s good. You know, he also said there was something you needed to tell me. Is there?”

Tsukishima knew exactly what his older brother was referring to. Him and Kuroo. “No, there’s nothing,” he said.

“Kei, even if you don’t think so yourself, I am your mother. I know when you lie to me.”

“I . . . I don’t want to—”

Tsukishima was interrupted by Kuroo, who took the phone from his hands and spoke to her himself. “Ah, hello, ma’am.”

“Tetsu, what the hell! Stop it!” Tsukishima whispered helplessly.

However Kuroo pressed on. “Yes . . . Yes, I’m his roommate. Kuroo Tetsurou . . . I’m well, thank you . . . Ah . . . Yes . . . about that, I believe you have the right to know. You see, the thing is, your son and I are in a relationship. Yes, _that_ kind of relationship . . . No, well, he’s not homosexual, I don't think, maybe he is, I don't really care . . . hmm. Think of it as this: he loves only the person named Kuroo Tetsurou. And this person loves only your son . . . Right, I understand. I’m sorry . . . Thank you. I hope to meet you in the future.”

Afterwards Kuroo returned the phone. Tsukishima was upset on the surface, but a part of him felt relieved. “What did she say?”

“She said she doesn’t really have the right to object, since she hasn’t been in your life for such a long time. She expected you to marry a woman, but she didn’t expect any children. You aren’t the type to have any. Then she said she’s glad you found someone, and that hopefully we wouldn’t fight as much as she did with your father.”

“Yeah.” It was a simple response, but even the millions of things that went on in his head could not describe how light he was feeling. How the heavy burdens just felt _lighter._

 

Later that evening, after dinner, Tsukishima asked Kuroo if he could go to the storage closet. Kuroo understood what he actually meant by that and said, “Sure. Just don’t take too long.”

Tsukishima went to talk to Kuroo’s father. He didn’t quite know why he wanted to talk to him, but he felt that he needed to. He felt that he should. “Um, hello. I’m your son’s roommate, Tsukishima Kei. I think you’ve seen me a couple times before. You even helped me out that one time. Today, I came to apologize. I think you’re aware that your son and I are together. I just want to say that I’m sorry for not giving you a grandchild. I’m sorry he chose me instead of a woman. I’m sorry that you’re dead, and that you aren’t able to see how much your son’s grown up. I really . . . wish you were alive. I would have liked to know you more.”

Just then, Kuroo came inside. “Who knew our Kei-kun could be so sincere?”

“Shut up.”

“You know, you are way too old to be a crybaby.” Kuroo knelt down and pulled Tsukishima close. “And there’s nothing you need to apologize for. Don't cry.”

“Still. I’m only crying because you won’t.”

***

The day she died felt like the end of the world to them. Or, more accurately, to Kuroo. It was just a normal recuperation day (from the accident), and he sat on Sachi, his sofa, as usual. However, not long after he sat down, he felt a dent. A very indented dent. Soon enough, he fell right through her as she split down the middle. In disbelief, he got back up and tried to sit back down, but the space between her two halves were still evidently there. He cried, “SHE’S DEAD!”

Tsukishima came out from his room, confused. “What are you talking about? Who died?”

“Sachi! Look!”

“The sofa?” He looked and saw that she had cracked straight down the middle. “Well, she _is_ pretty old. And we did do that stuff on—”

“Say no more, for my sake, please.”

“Then, why don’t we just buy another one? The two of us can’t fit on the recliner.”

“I don’t want another one. I want Sachi!”

Tsukishima sighed. He didn’t feel like dealing with Kuroo when he was like this. It was at this time that the doorbell rang. He answered it and stared in silence at the person on the other side. He should have known something was going to happen, because of that phone call from his mother. He should have expected to see his father appear in his life again. “What are you doing here?” he asked.

“Oh, you’re Kei’s dad . . .” Kuroo said from the living room.

“Your mother convinced me to see how you were living your life.” Peering inside, he said, “But I see you don’t even have a decent sofa?”

Kuroo interjected, “Hey! Don’t insult—”

“Anyway, I guess you should come in.” Tsukishima eyed Kuroo as if to tell him to behave. The three of them sat at the table with beers. “So what do you want to know?”

“You’re not in any debt, are you?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Are you eating three meals a day?”

“Yes . . .”

“Are you thinking about getting a wife? Or a girlfriend?”

Tsukishima and Kuroo exchanged glances. “No . . .” he said.

“Why not?” his father pressed on.

“B-because,” he stammered, motioning to Kuroo, “I’m with him.”

His father exclaimed, “So your mother was right? You’re with a man? Your _roommate?_ Why, Kei? Why would you do this to us? Do you hate us that much?”

Tsukishima figured “us” meant his parents. But he couldn’t understand why his father thought that he was doing it to spite them. “You never gave me advice about relationships in the past, so why do you think you can tell me what you want from me now? Why should I even listen to you?”

“I want you to be happy. This, this _thing_ you’ve got going on with this man—it’s immoral. You have to end it here. You will never be happy as long as you’re together. Listen to me, Kei. Heed my words. This won’t fulfill you.”

Tsukishima’s eyes were spinning. Or rather, the room was. His father’s talking was giving him a headache and all he wanted to do was kick him out. He glanced at Kuroo, who actually seemed to be taking in the words like arrows. “Why are you trying to act like a father just when I don’t need you to? I’m not breaking up with him.”

“Kei . . .” Kuroo started. Tsukishima glared at him.

His father stood up and took Kuroo with him. Spitting in his face, desperate, he shouted, “You! What have you done to warp my son’s mind, huh? He could be able to have a real family! A much better family than ours! A happy family! Why are you taking that away from him?”

“Dad, no—”

His father slammed his fist against Kuroo’s face. He gave him three right hooks as his body fell to the floor. Tsukishima tried to stop him, but he couldn’t. It would have been different is his father wanted to fight him as well, but all he could see was the enemy who was Kuroo. He pounded and pounded, as if trying to break through an iron fortress. Tsukishima saw Kuroo’s face covered with red.

“Stop! He’s still recovering from an accident!” His father was deaf to his words. Finally, he landed a kick on him. “Are you done?” His father was silent. “Get the hell out of my house,” he said. “GET OUT!”

His father was gone with the words, “I’m only trying to save you.”

Between the two of them, and the bandages, things were silent. Tsukishima was grinding his teeth in frustration. Kuroo was biting his lip in remorse. He said, “He had a point. I’ve never really thought of the magnitude of the type of relationship we have. I’ve never really considered the weight of the things we’re leaving behind.”

“I have. But I don’t care anymore.”

“How can you not care? People will give you twisted glances. Your dad hates me, and even your mom is probably disappointed.”

Tsukishima dropped the rubbing alcohol. “Look, what are you trying to say?”

Almost painfully, Kuroo’s hair swept in front of his eyes. The rest of his face looked as if it was ready to cry. “Are you sure you want to be with me?”

“I’m sure. I don’t understand why you’re listening to my father. He’s a man who couldn’t even uphold his own marriage.”

“How . . . can you be so sure?”

“I don’t know. But I do know that I don’t want to ever live, or be with anyone else. Just you. Is that alright with you?”

“It’s alright.”

To surprise him, afterwards, Tsukishima indifferently made Kuroo cat-shaped pancakes. It became his favorite food.

***

Currently Kuroo was missing, and Tsukishima was losing his mind. After the incident with Tsukishima’s father, he left for work the next morning and didn’t come back home. Not even the next day. Tsukishima called Bokuto for any info he might have.

“Why is one of you always just leaving?” he said. He had no idea where Kuroo was.

He even asked Kenma if he was in America, but he wasn’t. He could hear Kenma mumble, “I wish.”

It neared a week and Kuroo had still not returned. Tsukishima was beginning to think he was dead. Which, was a bit extreme, but he had absolutely no idea where to look. He didn’t contact the police because he didn’t like them. Tsukishima was running around looking for him on a Saturday night. He felt déjà vu from this from when Kuroo was in the blizzard. This time, he saw him. He saw a man clothed in black with a helmet and a motorcycle. He was setting the helmet down and scratching his head.

Tsukishima marched up to him in disgust. “First I disappear, then you. This is a bad trend,” he said.

Kuroo, suddenly terrified, tried to hide his face by putting his helmet back on. Tsukishima stopped him with a glare. “Alright, alright. But it’s not what you think.”

“Really? So you didn’t buy a motorcycle and ride it here? After you almost died to one of them?”

“Keyword: almost. Seriously, they’re really fun to ride.”

“Okay, so when do you plan on telling me where the hell you were?”

“One thing at a time, princess. I went to my mother’s after work that day. I was going to call you, but I lost my phone. I was going to use my mother’s phone, but the pain from the accident—and your dad’s beat down made it worse—resurfaced and she sent me to the hospital. She probably didn’t call because she didn’t want you to worry. But I guess that worried you more, huh?”

“Are you serious? Are you okay?"

“Hmm? I think I’m okay. I thought you’d still be upset.”

“I am. But I’d rather have you alive.”

“Does that mean I get a hug and kiss?”

“No. It means I get to punch you.” Tsukishima lightly punched his chest. He continued to do so, and as he grabbed his jacket collar, he pulled him forward and kissed him. He kissed him until Kuroo kissed him back and they could no longer feel anything but each other's heat. Tsukishima then buried his face into Kuroo's jacket. Kuroo knew he wasn’t crying this time. This time he only looked on the verge of doing so, but somehow, it looked like that felt even more painful. Slowly, Tsukishima hugged him. He embraced him so tightly, as if he were a stuffed dinosaur. “I thought you left me,” he said.

“Left you?" Kuroo replied, "I wouldn’t leave because of what your father said. If anything, I’d leave if you asked me to. And besides, I love our home. I love _you._ ”

“I know. I know. I’m so glad I was wrong.”

Kuroo took out a bag of candy. “Here, I have gummies. Just leave me the green ones.” Candy could put even Tsukishima in a better mood. He ate the gummies as his eyes travelled towards the motorcycle. He wanted to ride it. Kuroo noticed this and he checked the time. “It’s about midnight, and I’m not sleepy yet. You wanna go for a ride?”

“Sure.” They got on the motorcycle and as Kuroo put his helmet on, he took out another one for Tsukishima.

“I figured you might want a ride. You’re cute like that.”

“Whatever you say, just don’t get us killed. Or kill someone.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Under the night sky, the motorcycle laughed in excitement. It zoomed past everything and was free. They were free. Tsukishima looked up and saw the moon. “Tetsu, look. Look at the moon.” Kuroo looked up and saw the moon peeking over the buildings. It definitely reminded him of Tsukishima. Although pure white, it was full of cracks and craters. It only rose when everything around it was dark. Only then would it shine. It was the only light that made the night just somewhat brighter. And that was all he could ever ask for.


End file.
